A Company Man
by monroeslittle
Summary: The Charmed Ones can't easily accept that Wyatt turns evil. They've had enough of Chris Perry's lies. They want answers and they're going to get them, even if it takes casting a spell. AU after 6x12 Prince Charming; Chris revelation fic.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: AU after "Prince Charming" in the sixth season. I don't think events played out realistically as far as Chris telling the Charmed Ones and Leo that their baby boy Wyatt is evil in the future. This is my attempt to rectify that. The fic focuses on Chris and will reveal a lot of his life in the unchanged future as well as have his identity revealed to the Charmed Ones in a different manner than on the show._

* * *

"I don't trust him," she declared yet again.

Paige sighed. "Okay, look, Piper, I think we've established that you don't trust him," she said. She watched her older sister continue to pace back and forth across the attic, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"I don't trust him either," Leo piped up from where he sat in an old rocking chair, Wyatt settled comfortably in his lap. There was a dark expression on Leo's face as he said the words. Leo was rarely a dark expression kind of person, but Chris seemed to be mighty good at bringing out the worst in both Leo and Piper.

Paige nodded patiently at Leo. "Yes, yes, I know. We all know. None of us trust Chris. Okay, we get it. Trust and Chris are not to be put in the same sentence. The question is what do we do _now_?"

"You mean now that my bitchy whitelighter from the future has told me my baby boy, _my_ baby boy, is the greatest force of evil this world has ever seen?" Piper asked angrily, stopping her pacing only to glare at Paige. "I say we summon Chris here and the blow up his ass!" she exclaimed, waving her hand through the air. Paige had no response, and to her utter frustration, Piper simply started pacing again.

Paige looked over at Phoebe for help, but her other sister only shook her head sympathetically. Ever since Chris had dropped the bombshell that the evil he'd come back to stop wasn't an evil that was after Wyatt but was Wyatt himself, things hadn't been going well. Yes, they had managed to rescue Wyatt from the Order. Yes, Chris had helped them.

But as soon as they were safely back at the Manor, Piper had started yelling at Chris to explain everything, threatening to blow him from here to hell if he even started to say the words "future consequences" and Chris had responded by orbing away.

That was two hours ago. They had been in the attic the entire time, and they had yet to reach any sort of decision as to what they should do. Leo seemed happy to sit and smolder with a frown on his face and Wyatt safely in his arms; Piper seemed to enjoy pacing back and forth, back and forth, ranting about the things she would do to Chris when she got a hold of him. Phoebe just sat on an old chest, running her hands over her face every now and then, apparently too overwhelmed to be of any use.

And it was driving Paige crazy.

"Look, I know we can't trust Chris," Phoebe said, "And I certainly don't want to believe him when he tells me my little nephew is going to become evil, but we can't totally discredit him." She glanced at Paige for support. "He has helped us a lot. And I know he isn't entirely evil — I felt the love that he had for Bianca. I know how much she meant to him."

"Evil can still love, Phoebe!" Piper snapped, turning on her sister. "May I remind you of a little demon called Cole!" Paige rubbed at her temples as Phoebe deflated where she sat.

"It doesn't matter what good he's done," Leo added, "It could all be a part of his plan. He's certainly proven that he's not against manipulating us. We already know he's lied to us about some things; who knows how much else he's lying to us about."

"So then if he has a plan," Paige began.

"Oh, he has a plan," Piper interrupted. "And if it's to hurt my baby, then I'm going to —"

"Blow up his ass, yes, sweetie, we know," Phoebe said.

Paige nodded. "But we don't know what his plan is, and so _that's_ what we need to do. Good or evil, lying and manipulating or not, we need to figure out what Chris Perry's end game is, and we can figure out what to do from there."

"Do you have any ideas on how to do that?" Leo asked.

Paige grimaced. "I was hoping maybe the wise Elder did?" she shrugged sheepishly. Leo didn't reply, and a glance at both Phoebe and Piper revealed that neither of them had any ideas either.

"There must be something," Paige muttered, stalking over to the _Book._ She began rapidly flipping through its pages. "_Something_ in here has got to be able to help us."

"Wait," Phoebe sat up straighter, an epiphany shining in her eyes. "What about the Truth Spell? I mean, I know it hasn't always had the best results in the past, but it's always managed to wrangle out the truth, however painful, hasn't it?"

Piper narrowed her eyes at Phoebe, as if appraising the idea, then she slowly began to nod. "I'm liking this plan," she finally said. "If we can't get the truth out of him by asking him then how about we force it out of him? The Truth Spell sounds perfect to me."

But Leo was shaking his head. "No, it won't work."

"Why not?" Phoebe frowned.

"Because, you said it yourself once, Phoebe — there's a way to get around it," Leo explained. "Do you remember when you went to get information out of Andy when Prue cast the spell the first time?"

"I made sure he didn't get a chance to ask me any questions," Phoebe remembered.

"Exactly," Leo said. "And maybe Chris won't be able to stop us from asking question, but I'm sure he can find something to keep it from working. The spell only really works when others aren't aware what's going on. Chris, despite everything else, is nothing if not smart. He'd find a way around the Truth Spell."

"Great!" exclaimed Piper irritably. "We're back on square one."

"Unless . . . ?" Phoebe looked over at Paige. Paige shook her head sadly.

"I couldn't find anything." Even as she spoke, however, there was a sudden burst of wind, and the pages of the book began to flip. All four pairs of eyes were trained on the book as it finally settled on a page.

"Well?" Phoebe asked as Paige looked down at the open page. After first she only frowned, her eyes scanning the page, but slowly a smile spread across her face.

"I think this is it," she announced. She looked up at the ceiling, "Thanks!" she called.

"What is it?" Piper asked. "What does it say?"

"It's a spell To Heal A Heart," Paige explained.

"To Heal A Heart?" Piper repeated critically, raising an eyebrow at her sister. "Who's heart? Does Chris even have a heart? And if he does, why the hell would we want to heal it?" She crossed her arms over her chest again.

"The _Book_ says that it's a spell to reveal what's inside someone's heart and head so that they can be better understood," Paige explained. "I guess it was written before there was an empath in the family," she said, glancing at Phoebe, who had joined her in front of the book and was now reading it as well.

"How long does it last?" Leo asked.

"As long as it takes for the person to be understood," Phoebe answered, her eyes not leaving the book.

"What do you think?" Paige looked over at Leo.

He gave a hesitant nod. "I think it could work. After all, to understand his plan, we need to understand him. And it says that it'll reveal what's in his head, right?" Paige and Phoebe both nodded in response.

"Let's do it, then," Piper declared, walking over and looking down at the spell alongside her sisters.

"It says we have to summon Chris to us first," Phoebe read.

"CHRIS!" Piper shouted abruptly and rather loudly, and both Phoebe and Paige cringed away from her. "CHRIS, GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE NOW!"

"Honey, I think we might have to actually summon him," Phoebe suggested. "I don't think he's going to come no matter how loudly you call." Paige nodded in agreement.

"Fine, you get ready to summon him just in case, and I'll keep calling him — CHRIS! WE WANT TO TALK!" she hesitated as Phoebe and Paige began to gather candles, "I promise not to blow you up!" she shouted in a much less threatening tone of voice, even if she couldn't entirely keep her anger and irritation from shining through. "I just want to talk!"

A moment later, there was a swirl of blue orbs, and a very hesitant Chris stood before them all. "I'm here to talk," he immediately said, his eyes darting around the room at all of them and finally at the candles both Phoebe and Paige were clutching.

"You see?" Piper said triumphantly. "No need to summon him." She was already standing behind the book, and Phoebe and Paige quickly joined her, coming to stand on either side of her.

"What are you three doing?" Chris asked suspiciously, worry lining his features. "I thought we were going to talk, remember?"

They didn't reply.

"_Here our words, here our plea,_" they began to chant, even as Chris started to back away from them, a look of terror building in his green eyes. _"Across the sky, across the sea,"_

"Okay, really, I thought we were going to talk?" Chris asked. "Spells are not talking!"

"_Reveal to us what must be known,_

_To understand thoughts all his own!"_

There was a moment of still silence, and then suddenly a loud roaring was resounding through their heads, and in a whoosh of blurred color they were knocked off their feet and thrown backward as blackness took over.

"Ooooh," Phoebe moaned. Grunting, Paige sat up and clutched her head.

"Why do the spells always have to get physical?" she whined.

"More importantly, where the hell are we?" Piper asked, sitting up as well before pushing herself into standing position. Paige glanced around. They weren't in the Manor anymore. And where they were . . . well . . . It was all black. Whatever they were standing on was black. There was no ceiling or roof or sky — only black. It surrounded them as far as they could see; it encompassed them in every way.

"This is not good," Piper said slowly, turning in a circle and taking in there rather bleak surroundings. "This is really not good," she turned to her sisters, both of whom were getting to their feet.

"I think this is the part where we declare that the spell backfired," Phoebe announced, brushing at her knees before turning in a circle herself and taking in all the . . . black.

"Leo!" Piper shouted. "LEO! LE —" she gasped, stumbling backwards.

"Wha — oh my God!" exclaimed Phoebe, clutching at Paige's arm.

"Not good," Piper muttered, shaking her head.

Pacing in the darkness, having appeared out of thin air, was Piper. Another Piper, that is. Paige could only watch as an older version of her older sister, the very same older sister who stood right beside her, paced across the blackness.

"No," the older Piper insisted. "No." Her hair was in a loose bun, the skirt she wore was long and twirled about her as she turned and paced to and fro. She shook her head adamantly again. "No."

"What's going on?" whispered Phoebe.

"I have no idea," Paige answered, slowly shaking her head and not taking her eyes off of the other Piper.

"Come on, Piper, just listen to me for one minute, okay?" Leo asked.

And suddenly he was standing before them too. Before any of them could gasp in surprise, their black surroundings were gone, had faded away. Instead they stood in the living room of the Manor, the same as it had always been with only a few subtle changes — different pictures hanging on the walls; more toys scattered here and there.

And before them older Piper and what was apparently an older version of Leo, dressed in golden Elder robes, argued with one another.

"I've been listening to you," older Piper said. "And I'm _done_ listening. My answer is no."

"Piper," sighed Leo.

"No! I'm not going to change my mind on this, Leo. _You're_ not going to change my mind. Now I love you, Leo, and I will always love you. And I respect you, and I respect your opinion — you know that, you know I value your input . . . but not on this. I've made up my mind. My answer is no."

For a moment Leo and Piper only stared at each other.

"This is what's best for him," Leo pleaded softly, his eyes begging for Piper to understand. "You know I only ever have his best interests at heart."

"Actually," Piper said, tilting her head at Leo, "Sometime I don't always know that."

"Piper!" exclaimed Leo, hurt. "He's my son!"

"I know, I know," Piper put her hands up in defense. "And that's exactly my point." She sighed, running her hands over her face. "He's your son, Leo. And right now, we're talking about what's best for him. Not for his magic, but for _him_. I know you love him, I know he's your son, but sometimes you get confused what's best for his magic and what's best for him."

Leo didn't say anything. "He's only eleven, Leo," Piper sighed. "He's barely more than a baby. And truthfully, he'll _always_ be my baby. There aren't many things I know more about than you, Leo, but this is one of the few things I do. I know my baby. And this might not be what's best for his magic, but it's what's best for him."

"If Wyatt's eleven," Piper whispered to Paige and Phoebe, "Then we must be seeing the future. We can't be in the future, because obviously older me and Leo can't see us, but. . . . " she trailed off.

Paige nodded. "Maybe the spell is just allowing us to witness future moments?" she suggested. "After all, Chris is from the future. Maybe the spell is showing us important moments for him? To better help us understand him and his motives and everything?"

"Yeah, but how does this have anything to do with Chris?" Phoebe asked.

"Piper, all kids have trouble in school. It's part of growing up," Leo said, drawing the sisters back to the future scene.

"He's not having trouble with school the way all kids do," Piper argued. "He's having problems with Magic School. And honestly, can you blame him? I don't think I would have been able to handle Magic School."

"What's Magic School?" asked Paige. Phoebe and Piper both shushed her, their eyes still trained on the scene unfolding in front of them.

"He's just having problems balancing his life at home and his life at Magic School," Leo said. "Don't you see, Piper? If he moves to Magic School, if he stays in one of the dorms there as a boarding student, then he'll be able to adjust more easily."

"No!" exclaimed Piper, and she began to pace again. "I'm not shipping my son off to _live_ at Magic School. You barely managed to convince me to have him attend the school in the first place, and you're not going to convince me to have him live at the damn place!"

"Piper," Leo began again.

"No, Leo, _no_. Look, we've been over this a thousand times already. Magic School isn't working for him. He's miserable there. And he's old enough now that he can go to regular, normal school with regular, normal kids and take regular, normal classes. He can keep his secret. Paige and Phoebe can help me train his magic just as well as the teachers at Magic School. We don't need them. He's not a baby any more, and if this is what he wants, then I think he can handle it. He should be able to handle it."

"But he's not a regular, normal kid, Piper!"

"Ah! And we're back to the fact that this isn't about his magic, Leo, this is about just him and his happiness. Now, listen to me: my son is not happy at Magic School. He wants to go to normal school. He is old enough to handle being a witch and going to normal school. So as his mother, who can not stand to see him so miserable, I am going to let him go to normal school. End. Of. Discussion."

For another moment there was silence between the two of them, and this time when Leo broke it he did so cautiously, slowly, as if afraid that Piper would explode again. "Can I make one last argument?" he asked.

Piper crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. "It won't do you any good," she said sourly.

"What about Wyatt?" Leo said. "He's doing just fine at Magic School. He's doing great, in fact. And he hasn't always been, has he? It took him a little while to adjust. At the first sign that he was unhappy you didn't ship him off to normal school, did you? No, you gave him time to get used to Magic School, to deal with his problems there. And now he's doing great!"

"This isn't about Wyatt," older Piper said, her frustration evidently building again.

"It isn't?" Phoebe whispered to Piper and Paige.

"I don't understand. . . ." Piper whispered. "Does this mean that . . . ?"

"That you have another son?" Phoebe supplied.

"But . . . but Leo and I are . . . we can't. . . ."

"I know it isn't about Wyatt," Leo said, "But my point is that if Wyatt can handle Magic School, why can't his little brother?"

"They're not the same person!" Piper shouted. "Why can't you understand that?!"

"Piper," started Leo yet again.

"No, this has lasted for way too long as it is. The discussion is over. I've made up my mind." And with that final statement, the older Piper stalked from the room. Shaking his head wearily, Leo orbed away a moment later.

And after another moment, in the blink of an eye, the Manor disappeared, and Paige, Piper and Phoebe were standing in a black abyss once more.

"I have another son," Piper whispered. "Leo and I have another son." She was staring off into space, into the blackness. Phoebe put a hand comfortingly on her shoulder.

"But what does any of this have to do with Chris?" Paige asked. It didn't make sense. Where were they exactly? Had they just seen the future? And if they had, then how? Was it the doing of the spell? But why would the spell show them that? None of it made any sense.

"Who knows," Phoebe sighed. She turned in a circle again, searching the darkness and coming up with no answers. "Who knows."

**To Be Continued. . .**

* * *

A/N: This is a rather confusing and short beginning, I know, but the Charmed Ones don't always know exactly what's going on, do they? They should figure things out more in the next chapter, which I also expect will be a bit longer. Also, Chris didn't have a very large role in this chapter, but trust me—he's a prominent figure in this story ;)

Please review?


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I don't own Charmed or the amazing characters in it; no infringement is intended by this story. It's purely for entertainment. :) Once again, this chapter doesn't have much Chris (although certainly more than Chapter One) but stick with me, he is certainly a central character, as is Leo. Remember, it's AU after "Prince Charming" in the sixth season. Everything before that on the show is kept, everything after is fair game. Enjoy!_

* * *

Leo stood in alarm, hugging Wyatt tightly to him.

In a flash of wind and color, the girls had disappeared. It was almost as if they were sucked into a vortex of some sort, and that vortex closed up inside of . . . Chris. Leo slowly approached the whitelighter, who lay unmoving on the ground. At the same moment that the girls were being sucked away into nothing, Chris was clutching at his chest and falling unconscious to the ground.

_It's all part of the spell,_ Leo thought to himself. He bent down and checked for a pulse. Chris was alive. Gazing down at the boy for a moment more, Leo finally turned away and went to the book. He scanned the spell on the open page. He glanced at Chris again.

He looked at Wyatt in his arms. His beautiful baby boy looked back up at him curiously. "What do you think, huh, Wyatt? What happened to Mommy and Auntie Paige and Auntie Phoebe?" He had a pretty good idea exactly what had happened to the girls — after all, the spell was supposed to allow them to see inside Chris's head and heart. But surely they weren't _literally. . . . _Sparing one last glance at Chris, Leo orbed away still holding Wyatt.

He needed to talk to the other Elders.

* * *

"Alright, let's just think about this. When Piper shouted for Leo, it allowed us to see a future moment between Piper and Leo. What does that tell us?" Phoebe asked.

Paige shrugged. "That Piper still has a temper in the future?" Phoebe shot a look at Paige, who only gave another sheepish shrug in response. Both girls looked over at Piper, who was still simply standing and staring off into nothing.

"Piper, sweetie?" Phoebe asked hesitantly. As if coming out of a trance, Piper glanced over at her sisters. "Are you okay?" Phoebe asked, walking towards Piper and reaching for her, as if to offer a comforting hand and with it comforting assurance.

"I'm — I'm fine," Piper shook her head, as though she were clearing her thoughts. She gave an awkward chuckle. "It's just . . . I can't believe it. I have another son! Ha . . . it's just. . . ."

"Wow?" Paige supplied.

"Wow," Piper agreed, nodding her head. "But, ah, we need to focus." Paige nodded in agreement. "So what are we going to do now?"

"I guess we could try shouting something again?" Paige suggested. "Maybe try shouting out for Wyatt?"

"How does that help us figure out what's going on?" Phoebe pointed out.

"It doesn't exactly, but I mean it might . . . once we . . . well, we're not going to figure out what's going on by just standing here in this . . . place!" Paige glanced around the blackness distastefully.

"What I want to know is what this has to do with Chris," Piper asked. "The sooner we figure this out, the sooner the spell will be over and I can back to Wyatt and . . . look, Chris has been lying to us all this time, now's our chance to figure out why."

"Yes, but _how_?" Phoebe asked again, getting more frustrated by the moment. She had tried thinking about it logically, but that wasn't getting them any where either.

"We shout for Wyatt!" Paige insisted. "That's what we do!" It was the only thing they had to go on; it was the only idea any of them had come up with.

"Fine, then," said Piper, before shouting out, "WYATT!"

"Wyatt!" Phoebe and Paige echoed. "WYATT!"

This time it wasn't an image that appeared in the darkness, but a sound. Music, loud and echoing, was suddenly overpowering their shouts. Paige made eye contact first with Piper and then with Phoebe. What was going on?

"Wait, I know this song," Paige recognized the lyrics. "It's always been one of my favorites —" and she joined in with the song, "_I'll give you a four leaf clover, take all the worry out of your heart, Let my love open the door, Let my love open the door —_" And as she sang, a CD player appeared in front of them, a CD player from which the music was evidently coming.

"That's my old CD player!" Phoebe exclaimed, pointing at it even as a table suddenly appeared underneath it, supporting it. Another moment later and the blackness had faded away again, and they once more stood in the Manor, this time in the conservatory. Paige spun around, taking in the familiar room decked out in streamers and balloons and a large banner strung across an entire wall.

"Happy Anniversary" Phoebe read the banner slowly. She glanced at Piper and Paige.

"What does this have to do with Wyatt?" Piper asked furiously, her voice unintentionally a whisper. There was no one in sight, despite all the decorations, the half eaten cake and the pile of unopened presents. The music was still playing, Pete Townsend still crooning the lyrics of _Let My Love Open The Door_ over the CD player_._

Before either Paige or Phoebe could say anything, however, someone entered the scene. She was barely even a teenager, perhaps eleven or twelve at the oldest. She stalked into the room angrily, her dark brown hair gathered into a ponytail, a look of anger burning on her face and in her dark brown eyes, and a baseball bat held firmly in her grasp.

"Oh my —" Phoebe exclaimed as the girl slammed the baseball bat into the CD player, instantly killing the music. She slammed it down again and again, oblivious to the three women who were watching her with wide eyes.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" the girl cried, tears gathering at her lashes as she hit the CD player again and again, until it fell to the ground in scattered, broken pieces. She continued to hit its pieces, all her might exerted into every swing as she went on muttering angrily, "I hate you! I hate you!"

"I hope you didn't like that CD player too much," Piper told Phoebe, not taking her eyes off of the girl.

"I guess this is a sign that you should take my advice and buy an ipod," Paige added, patting Phoebe on the back.

"Penny," said a boy, and all three sisters snapped their heads in the direction of the voice. He was very familiar, although none of them could say from where. He had dark brown hair that hung sloppily across his forehead; he was perhaps two or three years older than the girl. His clothing was baggy, his frame thin, and his voice on the edge of deepening.

He walked further into the room, his eyes trained on the girl, who hadn't looked up from beating the CD player mercilessly. "Penny," he repeated, a plea strung in his voice.

"I don't want to talk, Chris," the girl replied with gritted teeth.

"Chris?" Piper and Phoebe repeated at the same time.

"Oh my, gosh, yes, that is Chris!" Paige exclaimed, looking at the little boy and instantly recognizing his green eyes. "Aw, he was a cute little kid!"

"He was kind of cute," Phoebe added. Piper didn't say anything.

"Penny," Chris said yet again. He stuffed his hands into his pockets. The girl finally stopped beating the remains of the CD player, and instead stood over the broken pieces, posed to hit them again but only staring down at them.

"I don't want to talk," she breathed.

"I know," Chris replied.

"You don't have to," supplied another voice.

"I know who that is!" Piper proclaimed loudly, an edge of awe in her voice. The other boy who had come to stand beside Chris had short blonde hair and was barely more than a year or two older than Chris. His frame was bigger, his presence more demanding, and his face strikingly familiar.

"Wyatt," Phoebe whispered.

"It has to be," Piper agreed softly with her eyes locked on the teenage boy.

"And I don't want to," the girl added bitingly, shooting a glare at Wyatt. He didn't reply, but instead leaned forward and whispered something to Chris.

"What is he saying to him?" Piper asked, stepping towards them.

"Wait, Piper," Paige began, reaching out for her sister, only to freeze in surprise. A fourth person had entered the room, and she was more familiar than any of the others.

"Paige!" said Phoebe, her eyes going wide.

"Paige?" Piper frowned at her sisters.

"Paige!" Phoebe pointed, and Piper whirled around to see the older version of Paige that had just entered the scene. Her hair was dark brown again but cut so short it barely brushed her ears. She wore high heels, black dress pants and a black button up shirt. Her make-up was as well done as her hair was styled, and despite the obvious age, she still looked very much the same.

"I look _good_ old!" Paige grinned, nodding her head in approval at her future self.

"Wait, but I thought you were dead in Chris's future?" Phoebe asked, frowning. "Remember? He said that you died that day that the Titans attacked."

"He lied," Piper supplied simply. "He must have."

"Penny," older Paige sighed, "We need to talk."

The girl, Penny apparently, scoffed. "We are not going to talk," she answered, not looking at Paige.

For a moment future Paige seemed to simply appraise Penny, then, crossing her arms over her chest, she said determinedly, "We're going to talk, alright. But first, would you put that baseball bat down? I think you've sufficiently destroyed your Aunt Phoebe's CD player." Scoffing again, Penny tossed the baseball bat aside and it landed on the ground with a loud clatter a few feet away.

"But apparently your temper tantrum isn't over," future Paige observed. "Penny," she sighed, "You are nearly eleven years old, and eleven-year-olds do not act like this. It's time for you to grow up. Penny — _look at me!_"

The girl, at future Paige's command, sent a nasty glare at her. For a moment the two stared at each other, and finally Paige broke the battle of wills. "Wyatt, Chris, why don't you give Penny and I some space," she glanced meaningfully at the two boys.

"Sure, Aunt Paige," Wyatt nodded, his eyes roaming over Penny's face, as if looking for something he apparently did not find, and a moment later he was gone. Chris didn't move, however.

"Chris?" Paige asked. Slowly, hesitantly, Chris turned to leave, but Penny stopped him.

"No!" she shouted suddenly. She abandoned her post over the ruins of Phoebe's CD player and started towards Chris, grabbing his arm. "You don't have to leave," she told Chris, and she slipped her hand into his before facing Paige again.

Future Paige closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if seeking patience. She opened her eyes to hone in on Penny. "Penelope Grace, I don't have time to deal with this. I know you're upset, and I understand why, but —"

"I want to live with Dad!" Penny declared suddenly.

Future Paige looked as if she'd been slapped. "What?"

"You heard me!" Penny said triumphantly. "I said that I want to live with Dad!"

"Penny —"

"No, you listen to me!" Penny interrupted Paige before the older woman could even start. "You and Dad are getting divorced, which means you won't be living together, which means I don't have to live with _you_ anymore!"

"Paige," Phoebe whispered, "That's your _daughter_!"

"Yeah," Paige whispered, glancing back and forth between her future self and the dark-haired girl, "And she hates me. . . ." Paige had never really thought of herself in a maternal light; oh, yes, she'd intended on having children in some distant future, but she had been content to be an aunt for several years. Still, to see her daughter and to realize that her daughter apparently _despised_ her. . . .

"Penny!" shouted future Paige, losing her temper.

"Mother!" Penny shouted back. "I'm sick of sitting by and not saying anything! We threw you and Dad this big Anniversary party, Aunt Piper spent a week baking, and Chris and I blew up every single balloon ourselves, and then in the middle of the party you just drop this bombshell that things _aren't working out_ between you and Dad and you —"

"Don't try and make yourself out to be the victim, Penelope!" future Paige interrupted. "You knew your father and I were having problems. Don't try and tell me you didn't have something up your sleeve when you organized this party; don't tell me you weren't somehow trying to manipulate your father and me —"

"I knew you were having problems but I didn't know you were separating!" Penny screamed, and tears sprang free from her eyes. "And I was trying to get you back together! Is that so bad?!"

"Yes, yes, it is!" future Paige shouted back. "It is not your place to interfere in my relationship! There are some things you couldn't possibly begin to understand, Penny, not now, not until you're older!"

Paige couldn't believe she was watching this. She knew on either side of her both Piper and Phoebe were just as surprised. Yet she couldn't think of a single thing to say. She could only stand there and watch as, crying, her daughter ran from the room. She didn't even heed Chris as he called out sadly, "Penny!"

Who was that woman who had just yelled at her own daughter like that? Surely it wasn't her; no, no, it couldn't be. There was silence ringing in the conservatory as Chris glanced shyly at Paige then back at his feet, apparently unsure what to do.

Future Paige, on the other hand, paid the boy no mind but suddenly started searching through her pockets and muttering to herself. After a moment she pulled out a pack of cigarettes and had one lit and at her lips before Phoebe could reprimand, "Paige!"

"What? I'm not the one smoking!" Paige defended, "Its future me."

They continued to watch on in silence as future Paige put a hand up to the wall to steady herself and continued to smoke with the other hand. Her eyes were closed and her posture was weary. After a minute or two, she opened her eyes again and they landed on Chris.

"You need something, honey?" she asked tiredly.

"Wyatt says you're going to come live back at the Manor," Chris began hesitantly, "Does that mean Penny and Patty are, too?" He shuffled his feet shyly.

Paige gave a soft chuckle. "I'm not coming back to live at the Manor. I think Piper would like that, but trust me, I'm getting the house. Henry's the one who'll be moving. Besides, either way — didn't you hear Penny? She doesn't want to live with me. Although," she tilted her head at Chris, "I'm sure if anybody could bring her around it'd be you."

"Me?" Chris questioned.

"You are her best friend, aren't you?" future Paige asked, the barest hint of amusement playing across her features as she took another puff of smoke. There was a lipstick stain on her cigarette.

"Yeah, but . . . I'll see you later," said Chris, turning away and starting out of the room.

"See you later, kid," future Paige replied, waving her hand breezily and then closing her eyes and leaning against the wall as she continued to smoke.

"I can't believe this," Paige whispered to Phoebe and Piper. "I'm the world's worst mother," she glared at her future self. "And I — wait, Piper, where are you going?" Piper had started off in the direction Wyatt, Penny, and Chris had all gone one by one.

"I'm not ready for this future scene or memory or whatever the hell it is to end yet!" Piper called over her shoulder as she disappeared out of the room. Sparing one last glance at her future self, Paige followed Piper, Phoebe already hot on her heels.

They didn't have to go far. Penny was sitting at the bottom of the stair crying, and Chris had sat down next to her. Piper stood watching them silently, and Phoebe and Paige came to stand on either side of her.

"She said that she's going to stay at the house and it's your dad that's going to move," Chris told Penny, his voice soft and sweet. Penny nodded, swatting at her tears.

"Thanks for finding out, Chris."

"Do you think you'll really go live with your dad?" he asked.

She shook her head, snorting. "No way; she'd never let me." There was another moment of silence, the only sound that of Penny sniffling, and then suddenly Penny let her head fall onto Chris's shoulder and her eyes fall shut. "I'm so tired, Chris," she told him, sighing. Her tears had all but abated.

"Yeah, me too," he muttered, "Me, too." After another moment, he added sadly, "Welcome to the Separated Parents Club. Out motto is 'lonely is as lonely does.' Catchy, isn't it?"

"Do I get a pin for joining?"

"I think that can be arranged. I'll ask Wyatt. He's the President of the club; I'm just the vice," Chris answered lightly.

"Don't sell yourself short, Chris," Penny replied, her voice growing more serious as she added, "Never sell yourself short."

And then it was as if someone had yelled out "End Scene." Right before their eyes, Chris and Penny disappeared, the Manor disappeared, and the sisters stood once more in the blackness, all the sights and sounds washed away.

"Well that wasn't very helpful," declared Phoebe, throwing her hands into the air in a gesture of helplessness.

"All it did was show me that I'm destined to be a suck-y mother," Paige complained, hugging herself slightly as she spoke, "And apparently that I'm getting a nasty divorce, to boot." She couldn't get the sight of her daughter out of her head, the sight of her daughter glaring at her, screaming at her, crying and running out of the room away from her.

"It showed us that apparently Chris was good friends with out family," Piper pointed out.

"Oh, yeah," Phoebe agreed, "Didn't future you call Chris and Penny best friends?"

Before Paige could even nod, Piper went on, "But what did that have to do with Wyatt? He was barely even in the scene!" Neither of her sisters had an answer for her. "Okay, let's think. Basically, wherever we are, we get to see things we ask for, right? We shout out for something, and we see it, right?"

"Right, except, what we see doesn't really have anything to do with what we're shouting for," Phoebe added. "So does it just show us something random, no matter what we shout?"

"And what, shouting is just the trigger?" Paige asked. Phoebe shrugged.

"I don't know, I'm just guessing here!" Phoebe rubbed her forehead with her hand, biting down on her lip.

"It's not what we shout," Piper said abruptly. Both Paige and Phoebe looked over at her frowning. Staring pointedly at nothing, Piper slowly nodded her head, as if going over something in her mind.

"Honey?" Phoebe questioned.

"It's not what we shout," Piper repeated, finally looking at them, "It's what we're thinking _when_ we shout."

"Ah. . . . I don't think I follow," complained Paige tentatively.

"It's like — when I shouted for Leo, I was thinking about the reason why we're in this mess — because of Wyatt. Because I want to do what's best for my son, because I want to figure out the truth about Chris and Wyatt."

"So you were shown a scene that didn't just have Leo," said Paige, understanding as well, "But a scene that was concerned with what's best for your sons — Wyatt included."

"Ooh," Phoebe made a face, "that, ah, that actually makes sense." She paused. "But wait, what about when we called out for Wyatt? What were you guys thinking about?"

"I was thinking about my second son, honestly," Piper said. "It must not have been responding to my shout, then." She looked over at Phoebe and Paige.

"I was thinking about, er, I don't know," Paige frowned, _What had I been thinking about?_ "I guess I was thinking about how frustrating it was not to know what was going on and . . . oh, I don't know!" She crossed her arms over her chest defensively.

"Well I was thinking about what the chances were of me seeing some of my future, to be honest with you guys — I was hoping maybe I'd get a glance at one of _my_ future kids, so it must have been responding to your shout, Paige," said Phoebe.

"It doesn't matter," Piper carried on before Paige could get worked up, "Look, why don't we test it? Somebody shout something but think something completely different, okay?"

Phoebe took up the task, "CHRIS!"

Nothing happened. Frowning, she shouted his name again. "Something's wrong," Paige observed. "What are you thinking about?"

"Jason," Phoebe answered. At Paige's look, she added in her defense, "What! I figured there aren't two people more opposite than Chris and Jason!"

"Well, obviously Jason isn't in the future that Chris knows," Piper pointed out.

Phoebe frowned. "Ooh, yeah, I didn't think about that. Well, that's depressing," she threw her hands into the air in a gesture of frustration. Silence reined for another moment as each sister was lost in her thoughts, but finally Piper broke it, her expression one of determination. She couldn't stand for things to be as gigantically screwed up as they were now, and the sooner she fixed it the better.

"Look, we want to find out about Chris. That's why we're in this mess. So let's shout Chris _and_ think Chris," Phoebe and Paige nodded as Piper went on, pacing slightly, "Think about the lies he's told us and about finding out his other lies, think about learning his end game — _think Chris Perry_. Got it? Get it? Great. Let's go — CHRIS!"

"Chris!" Phoebe and Paige joined in, "Chri —"

"It isn't that hard, Chris. Just _think_. You know their history better than anyone."

This time when the blackness faded and a scene unfolded above them, beneath them, and all around them, it wasn't in the Manor. Paige didn't know where they were, but she didn't glance around too much.

The floor was made of cement, as were the walls. Maybe it was a basement of some sort? But the ceiling was high — too high — and the lamps that hung down gave off the only light, an eerie, unnatural light. Maybe it was a small warehouse? The only furniture was a roughly made wooden table that was covered in papers — maps and blueprints as far as Paige could see — and two wooden chairs.

Neither of the chairs was occupied by the two people in the room. And it was on them that Paige, along with Phoebe and Piper, put her focus. "I know, _I know,_" Chris exclaimed in frustration. There was a tense moment of silence and then suddenly he banged his fist into the table. "Damn it — I don't know!"

"This must be right before he came," Phoebe whispered to her sisters. "He looks exactly like he did when he showed up in the attic. Different outfit, but that's about it."

"Who's he with?" Paige asked. All three women looked at the figure opposite Chris. The position in which she stood kept them from recognizing her; she was shadowed. All they could determine was that she was a woman, and if her stance was any indication, that she was as frustrated as Chris was.

"Okay, listen, Chris — you know all their big battles. There have got to be at least three or four when Wyatt was a little baby that you can choose. Any one will work as long as you know exactly what happens, so you can manipulate it."

Leaning against the table, shaking his head tiredly, he replied, "I don't see why I can't just go back to when Wyatt was born. That was a disaster — the whole 'day the Magic died' fiasco is exactly what we need."

"No," the woman disagreed. She still didn't move into the light. "You need something broader than that."

"Broader than all of magic going on a holiday?" Chris glared at her.

"Yes," the woman answered snappily. "Don't get mad at me. You need something that can allow you to take up the position of their whitelighter. That means you have to get rid of Leo. There's no way, _no way_, you can get rid of him when his son is being born. It wouldn't work."

"Wow, he really plotted this out," Phoebe murmured.

"Shh," Piper said, her eyes trained on the scene.

"Think, Chris," the woman encouraged, her tone softer this time.

Closing his eyes, Chris tipped his head back and took a deep breath. Paige felt a sudden surge of sympathy for him. Something about his posture, or maybe his expression, made him seem too young for whatever he was trying to do, too overwhelmed, too burdened. _Well, that's if being evil is a burden,_ Paige thought mercilessly to herself.

"I've got it," Chris announced, standing up and starting to pace much like Piper. "The Titans."

"The Titans?" the woman repeated, an interested hesitance in her voice.

"Yeah," Chris nodded, "The Titans. Some demon releases them from their frozen graves, and they go after all the Elders. The Charmed Ones stopped them in the end, but not without a little trouble. Not even the Elders knew what to do at the time. According to the stories they used to tell, it was big. It was scary. It —"

"It'll work," the woman interrupted, a definite note of interest and even triumph in her voice this time. "Tell me more about it," she demanded.

"Okay," Chris began, staring off into space and nodding his head again, as if recounting it all in his head, "So it started when Paige got turned to stone. It took Phoebe a while to free her, and at one point things got really bad when Leo ended up getting stuck with all the Elders, unable to orb. But they got Paige out of the statue, and some Elder — ah, I forget his name —" Chris waved his hand in the air as if to signify the irrelevance of the Elder's name, "whoever he was, he released the powers to turn mortals into Ancient Greek Gods. And then —"

"Yes, I remember this story," the woman interrupted again. "The Elder turned the Charmed Ones into Ancient Greek Gods, they were scared and they wanted Leo back, and it was enough to push them over the brink and get them to use the powers to kill the Titans. The Elders took back the powers and everything was well again."

"Right," Chris nodded. He finally looked at the woman. "So when do I intervene?" The woman didn't reply at first, and there was a thick, thoughtful silence. Finally, she spoke again.

"When Paige gets turned to stone. Tell Phoebe and Piper that in the world you know, Paige didn't get turned to stone, she died. Tell them that without her, no one could defeat the Titans, not even Paige, and that because of that, your future is awful. Tell her the Titans turned everybody into statues; tell her they destroyed all the Elders and killed your family."

Chris was nodding in agreement, carefully taking in every word.

"Lies," Piper muttered, shaking her head. "Everything he told us was a lie."

"And then how do I become their whitelighter? Leo doesn't become an Elder for a few more years, and after that they reject every whitelighter that the Elders send them," Chris said. Before the woman could he reply, he answered his own question: "I have to make him an Elder sooner." There was another pregnant pause. "I'll make him release the Ancient Greek Gods. I'll convince him to save all the other Elders."

He paused again, sneering slightly when he said, "I'll make him a fucking hero. They'll be begging for him to join them afterwards." Paige couldn't help but notice the bitterness in Chris's voice as he spoke.

"That sounds good," the woman said uncertainly, "But it might be messing with the timeline _too_ much. You don't want to stop yourself from being born, do you?"

"No," Chris shook his head. "But Leo becoming an Elder won't affect that. Their separation had nothing to do with that."

"I'm getting more and more confused," Paige whispered.

"I'm thinking Chris, or maybe his mom or dad, was one of Leo's charges," Phoebe guessed, whispering too. "And that's why he was so close to our family. And that's why what happens to us directly affects what happens to him."

Piper shushed them both.

"Alright then," the woman said, and her voice was nothing if not smug. At long, long last, she moved from where she stood, and she slowly came into the light. Piper couldn't help but gasp, even as Paige gawked in surprise and Phoebe exclaimed, "Oh my god!"

It was Bianca, the Phoenix demon. And even as they watched, Chris embraced the woman who tried to kill him, hugged her tightly. "This is going to work," she whispered to him. "We're going to fix everything. No one will die if we do this right; the Resistance will never even have to be formed. You won't lose your family."

Closing his eyes and pressing his face into her hair, Chris nodded. "I'm going to save everybody," he said, and it was as if he were speaking a promise. They hugged silently for another minute more before Bianca pulled away.

"I should probably get going," she told him reluctantly. He nodded his head.

"Yeah. We don't need Big Brother getting suspicious." Bianca turned to go, and Chris turned his attention back to the papers littered across the single table. Before she had shimmered away, however, she looked back at Chris.

"I love you, Chris," she told him softly, "And I trust you, and I believe in you, and I want you to finally get what _you_ want, but. . . ."

"But?" frowned Chris.

"But — do you realize —" whatever she wanted to say, she was obviously having difficulty articulating it. Chris took a step towards her, evidently concerned. "If you just killed him," Bianca said, her voice laced with trepidation, "it would be a lot easier, and it would save everyone. If he dies as a baby, he can never grow up to be evil."

Chris only stared at Bianca.

"My God, he is trying to kill my baby," whispered Piper disbelievingly.

Slowly, Chris shook his head. "Chris," Bianca murmured with a plea in her voice.

"No, Bianca. _No._" He paused again. "I'm not just doing this to save everyone, Bianca. I want to save my family; I want to save my friends. I want to save the world. _But I want to save him too._ He wasn't always evil, Bianca." There was a look of utter innocence and desperation on Chris Perry's face that Paige had never seen before this moment, before a spell had brought them to view some secret future moment.

"Once upon a time, he was my best friend. I'm going to save him."

"We were wrong," Phoebe said, lines of concern and worry slowly spilling across her face as she watched the scene continue to play out, "We were _so_ wrong about him. . . ."

"I thought Penny was your best friend," Bianca argued, although much of the fight seemed to have left her — not that there was much there to begin with. "And he killed her."

"He what?" asked Piper abruptly. "No," she shook her head. "No."

"He killed Penny in cold blood, and —"

"I know he did!" exclaimed Chris, cutting Bianca off. He turned away from her. "But before that . . . he and Penny were. . . . If I do this my way, we can save them both." He looked back at Bianca, and the expression on his face was one with which one could not argue, one with which the sisters were all very familiar.

"So we're going to do this my way. We don't kill him. We save him."

If Bianca replied, they didn't get a chance to hear it.

They didn't return to the blackness. Instead, the world around them started to spin. Colors smeared, sounds mashed together, everything went topsy turvy, until abruptly it stopped and they were deposited ungracefully onto the floor of the Attic in the Manor.

Leo was no where in sight, and beside them, Chris was slowly rising, rubbing his head tiredly. "What the hell . . . ?"

**TO BE CONTINUED . . .**

A/N: Again, things are still rather confusing. But explanations are more exciting when they come in pieces! I know some of this chapter may seem irrelevant -- such as the scene with Paige and her daugheter Penny -- but I want to establish a backstory for the life that Chris led; I want to explain how everything became the way it did, and that includes explaining things with the family, including Paige's life (and later Phoebe's.) It'll all tie together if you give it time ;)

Please review! And thanks very much to all those who have already reviewed; it always makes my day to receive another review, or another e-mail telling me the story has been put on someone's Alert list or Favorite list. So, again, thanks!


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Here's the standard disclaimer: I don't own Charmed; I write only for my own personal enjoyment; no infringement is intended at all. With that out of the way, here's Chapter Three, the first chapter where Chris is actually a central player!_

* * *

Chris, still rubbing his head, let his eyes fall upon Piper, Phoebe, and Paige, all of whom were shuffling to their feet. Paige met his gaze for a moment and, despite the fact that she was the least intuitive of the Halliwells, she recognized the mixture of suspicion, fear, and alarm swirling in his eyes.

"What's going on?" he asked, pushing himself to his feet and backing away from them hurriedly. "What the hell did you do to me?"

"We didn't do anything _to_ you," Phoebe started. Chris shook his head disbelievingly, scoffing.

"Okay, you three have problems. Listen to me: I am _not_ the bad guy here!" his voice nearly squeaked.

"Chris," began Piper, sighing and brushing off her shirt. He didn't let her continue.

"No, no, look, I get that you don't trust me, okay? I know you don't want to believe me, and that you don't have any reason to believe me, and that it'd be easier for you if I was the bad guy, but just because it'd be easier, does not mean that I'm actually evil, and —"

"We do trust you," Phoebe broke in. Chris was startled into silence. He frowned.

"You — you do?" For the briefest of moments, emotions danced across his face, calculations and suspicions all shining in his eyes, but then his face was blank and his eyes were nothing but narrowed. "You trust me?"

"_Yes_," Piper assured.

"Oh," he said, letting out a huff of breath and then giving an awkward chuckle, "Okay." He nodded his head, grasping a semblance of control over the situation. "Good, then. You should trust me." When no one looked ready to say anything, he carried out hesitantly, "And, ah, why is it that you suddenly trust me?"

"The spell," Phoebe answered.

"Spell?" he echoed suspiciously. His eyes narrowed accusingly again, "So you _did_ put a spell on me!"

"Chill out!" exclaimed Paige, exasperated. "All we did was cast a spell to find out why you really came from the past. To find out what the big, bad secret was! Big deal! You don't have to freak out on us."

"I told you why I came from the future," Chris said immediately, annoyance laced in his tone, "I came to save Wyatt."

"We know that _now_," Phoebe replied.

"What we want to know is why you didn't tell us that yourself." Piper spoke as it were a question, and, crossing her arms over her chest, she glanced appraisingly at him, waiting for an answer.

"I did!" Chris exclaimed.

"No, Chris," Phoebe said, stepping towards him. "You didn't tell us, not at first. And that's what we're asking: why you didn't tell us everything from the very beginning. We know the truth now, but what we don't know is why you lied to us and tried to manipulate us. Why didn't you just tell us everything when you first came from the future?"

"I — I couldn't," Chris answered, shaking his head. "But wait, when you say you know the truth now, what exactly do you mean?"

"The spell allowed us to see future moments that eventually revealed to us the truth," Phoebe explained. Paige was positive there was a note of terror in Chris's eyes at her sister's statement.

"We know that you were best friends with Wyatt. We know that when Bianca said you should come back and just kill him, you disagreed. We know that you really want to save him." Piper spoke slowly, staring straight at Chris as if waiting to see how he would react to each of the facts she laid out before him.

"Right," Chris nodded his head. "So that's all you know?"

"All we know?" Paige repeated.

"Is there something else?" asked Piper, raising her eyebrows at him.

"What?" frowned Chris. He quickly shook his head. "No, no, of course not."

"Good," Piper said. A tense silence ensued. Finally, Piper, tilting her head slightly at Chris, let out a soft scoffing chuckle.

"What?" Chris asked, immediately on his guard.

"Nothing," Piper assured. "I just . . . I was just remembering something. When those three ditzy blondes tried to replace us, you figured out they were fakes and you helped us. When we asked you how you knew they weren't really us, you said that in all your life you'd never seen me take the bait the way my blonde bimbo wannabe did."

"Yeah, so?" Chris shrugged.

"So, I asked you why you said your whole life, because you'd only known us for a few months. I thought you were exaggerating." There was a pregnant pause. "But you weren't just exaggerating, were you? You really have known us for our whole lives."

"I — I can't tell you that. Future consequences," he told her bluntly.

"You don't have to tell us," Phoebe replied, crossing her arms over chest. "We saw it."

"Yeah, about that," Chris took on a businesslike tone, "What exactly did you three see?"

"We saw Leo and I arguing about whether or not Wyatt's little brother should go to Magic School," Piper answered. "Which, by the way, how is that possible that Leo and I have another kid? We're not together anymore."

"I can't tell you that," Chris replied automatically. Piper scoffed.

"Can you tell me why my kid hates me?" Paige asked. Chris glanced over at her questionably. "Yeah, we saw the Anniversary party she threw me and my soon-to-be ex-husband. And as far as I could tell, she wasn't my biggest fan."

"She didn't hate you," Chris answered softly.

"Didn't? As in past tense? So she's dead? Wyatt killed her?" Piper jumped in, firing out question after question. Chris looked alarmed. "We also saw you talking with Bianca. We overheard you planning out how you would manipulate us and lie to us."

"Which once again," Phoebe said, "was not the smartest move you could've made. You should have told us everything from the beginning!"

"And, you know what — you still haven't really told us everything!" Paige added. "I mean, it's obvious that you were close to our family, and that you were one of Leo's charges or something, but that's not really a lot to go on —"

"Okay, ENOUGH!" Chris shouted. "I. Can't. Tell. You. About. The. Future. How is that a difficult concept for you to understand?"

"But —" Phoebe started.

"NO! Look, I came back from the future to stop Wyatt from becoming evil. But if I try and change anything else, who knows how messed up it could turn out! So trust me, this is the best way to do it. It doesn't matter who I am. It doesn't matter how I know your family. The fact is that I do, and that I knew when I came here I couldn't come right out and tell you the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

"Why not?" Piper demanded.

"Because you wouldn't have been able to handle it! God," he turned away from them, rubbing his hand through his hair in frustration, "you can't even handle it now!" He looked back at them, anger and annoyance most prominent on his face. "Wyatt turns evil. He kills innocent people. He takes over the _world_. But I don't just want to stop him; I want to save him too! He was one of my best friends.

"But how could I have possibly explained that to you all when I first came? Can you honestly say you would have believed a complete stranger who came from the future to tell you your precious, perfect baby boy was going to become the greatest force of evil this world has ever seen?"

None of the Charmed Ones answered him.

"That's what I thought," he said, his voice considerably calmer. "So I did what I thought was best. And maybe not everything went according to my plan, but I've done the best I could. Cut me some slack."

Slowly, Phoebe nodded. Before anyone could say anything, however, Leo orbed into the attic. Wyatt was in his arms. "Leo!" Piper exclaimed, starting towards him and reaching out for Wyatt. "Where did you go?"

Glancing at Chris, Leo addressed Piper when he replied, "I went to ask the other Elders about the spell you three cast, about what it did to you and to Chris." He handed Wyatt over to Piper.

"And?" asked Phoebe.

"And according to the Elders," Leo took a deep breath, "it literally let you see the inside of his head." He paused, letting his words sink in. "It transported you into Chris's mind."

"What?" Chris snapped.

"How — how is that even possible?" asked Phoebe, her eyes shinning with her confusion.

"A person's mind is a complicated thing, Phoebe," Leo explained, "it's an intricate web comprised of memories, beliefs, knowledge, and thoughts all intertwined. Trying to decipher just one of those things within a mind is an impossible task. Those with the power to read minds — they do so by honing in only on the specific thoughts that a person is currently in possession of right at that moment. But what you sought wasn't in his thoughts; it was in his memories."

"I still don't get it," Paige cut in.

Leo sighed, pausing a moment as if thinking how further to explain it. "What you wanted to see was Chris's memories. It was in his memories that the answer to your question was, so that's where the spell took you. But in order to let you see his memories and not be bombarded by everything else — his past and present thoughts, his beliefs, his knowledge — he had to be unconscious, unable to even dream. That way his mind would be blank, and open to you calling up whatever memory you wished."

Phoebe nodded. "I think I kind of get it."

"Really, the spell is rather exceptional. Rarely is a person's mind completely void of all things. Even when sleeping, the sandman gives people dreams to involve their minds," Leo said, his eyes glancing over at the still open _Book of Shadows_.

"Wait, wait, so let me get this straight," Chris finally spoke, "You three _went into my mind_?" he glanced between the sisters. "And watched my memories on replay?"

"Yes," Leo answered for them. "And now I want to know — what did you see?"

"Chris is good," Phoebe answered. "He really did come back to save Wyatt."

"Apparently," Piper clarified, "He grew up with Wyatt. He and Wyatt were friends. And so he doesn't just want to stop Wyatt from becoming evil, he wants to save him." Piper stared intently at Chris, "Although, he still won't tell us much more than that."

Chris nodded. "It's all you need to know."

"No, actually, Chris, it's not," Leo said.

Chris let out a huff of disbelief. "This family is impossible!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up into the air in defeat. He looked back at Leo, "What exactly do I have to do prove that I'm not trying to hurt you or Wyatt?"

"We know you're not, sweetie," Phoebe said.

"But we still need to know more about you," Leo continued. His face was serious and straightforward; considering he was a man — an angel — of great humanity, sympathy, and love, his utter lack of compassion for Chris Perry was rather evident. "We need the whole truth — everything, all the details."

Christ stared at Leo for a long moment before he answered. "Well, then, I'm sorry," he said, both his face and his voice blank and emotionless. He glanced at Piper, Phoebe and Paige. "I can't tell you anymore." And before anyone could say another word, he orbed away.

"I hate it when he does that," Paige commented, flopping down onto an old couch.

"He's just upset," Phoebe said, sitting down on the arm of the couch. "We haven't exactly been treating him very well."

"He hasn't given us reason to," Leo pointed out.

"Well, his memories did," Piper said. "He might be a secretive, neurotic little freak, but he's trying to help Wyatt, and that's all I care about right now." She had started towards the attic door. "I'm going to put Wyatt down for bed."

"Kiss him extra for me!" Phoebe called as Piper disappeared out of the room with Wyatt on her hip as he nodded off sleepily.

"You still haven't told me exactly what you saw," said Leo, not letting the subject drop.

"Well, we saw my future Anniversary party and met my daughter," Paige said. Leo raised his eyebrows in interest. "Don't get too excited," Paige sighed. "Apparently I'm getting divorced, my daughter hates my guts, oh, and she has good reason to hate my guts, and last but not least — I've been come a smoker!"

"Wow," Leo said, "That's, ah . . ."

"Awful?" supplied Paige. "Yeah, I know. Well, I guess I know what I'm going to look out for in my future now, huh?"

"That's a good thing," Phoebe said, slightly amused. She smiled at her little sister. "At least now you have the chance to make sure that future doesn't happen." Paige opened her mouth to reply when a shrill scream filtered into the room followed by a loud bang and clatter.

"Piper!" Phoebe stood in alarm. She reached for Leo's hand and they disappeared in a swirl of blue orbs. Paige followed right after them.

As Paige orbed into Piper's bedroom, she had a moment to think to herself that the last thing they needed right now was a demon attacking. A moment later, however, and she was orbing a chair at the . . . _creature_ that Piper had cornered against the wall. It's shoulder was bloody, and judging by Piper's current position in front of Wyatt's crib with her hands raised, Paige was pretty sure Piper had just blasted the demon.

But a blast hadn't been good enough to kill it.

The chair banged against the demon, but it didn't seem to faze her — if it was a her. "I'll be back for him," she hissed, and then, even as Piper attempted to blast her again, she shimmered away clutching her shoulder.

"I swear to God, if one more demon comes after my baby . . . !" Piper swore, turning around and gathering Wyatt up into her arms. He had only just let his force field down, and he cried into his mother's shoulder as she hugged him. "It's okay, buddy; it's okay," she murmured to him as Leo came over and ran a hand over Wyatt's fuzz of hair.

"Who was that?" asked Phoebe, staring at the spot the demon had been standing.

"A really, really ugly demon," Paige suggested. "You know," she cocked her head thoughtfully, "Why is it that everyone in the underworld looks like batshit? You'd think there'd be a _few_ attractive ones, right? They've got to mate and stuff, right? But I guess that's part of the whole evil thing, huh?"

"Not important right now, Paige," Piper admonished.

"Sorry," Paige apologized sheepishly.

"Let's check the _Book,_" Phoebe suggested to Paige. Glancing at Piper, who alongside Leo was still murmuring to Wyatt comfortingly, Paige nodded at Phoebe, and the two left the room.

"She was pretty distinct looking. We should be able to find something on her. . . ." Paige said as they climbed the stairs to the attic.

"And hopefully what she wants with Wyatt," Phoebe added. "She might be the one to turn him evil, even." They entered the attic to see that Chris had returned and now stood over the book, looking down at the spell they had used on him. A deep crease covered his forehead as he frowned down at the open book.

"Glad to see you didn't stay away for too long," said Phoebe, startling him into looking up at her and Paige. "But I'm guessing you didn't come back because of the demon?"

"Demon?" Chris repeated. "What demon? What happened?"

"A demon went after Wyatt," Paige explained, "just a moment ago, while Piper was putting him down to sleep."

"_What?_" Chris let out a frustrated huff of air. "Why didn't anyone call me? People, come on — I'm here to save Wyatt! If you're going to call me at all, when Wyatt gets attacked by a demon would probably be a good time!" he yelled.

"Calm down," Phoebe replied, "Sheesh, we were about to call you. It was happening too fast at the time," she joined him beside the book and began flipping through the pages in search of the demon.

"And maybe, if you hadn't orbed out of here when we were talking earlier, we wouldn't have had to call you at all," she continued, sparing him a challenging glance.

"_We_ weren't talking earlier," Chris said stubbornly, "You all were doing all the talking and not listening to a word I was saying. But you know what? That's not important. What demon attacked Wyatt?"

"We don't know," answered Paige.

"But we're about to find out," said Phoebe, still scanning the pages of the book.

"What did she look like?" asked Chris.

"Tall, thin and ugly," Paige summarized. Chris glared at her. "Okay, you want more details? Ah, she had red hair — curly red hair — and it had lots of, oh, I don't know, maybe _beads_ in it. And she was wearing a lot of clothing, like rags or something. And she had lots of necklaces on with, you know," she indicated with her hands, "really big pendants."

"She wasn't old," Piper continued for her as she entered the room. "Wyatt's with Leo," she answered her sister's unanswered question before going on, "She was pretty young, actually. But she had a nasty scar on her cheek."

Chris frowned. "Her cheek? Just her cheek? Or was it more like a slash all across her face — over her eye and her mouth and her nose and everything?"

"What you just said," Piper answered.

"Do you know who she is?" Phoebe asked, temporarily pausing in her search of the book to look at Chris.

"I think I might," Chris answered tentatively. "But I don't know why she'd be after Wyatt . . . she actually — she works for him in the future." His statement was met by tension: pure, thick, silent, suffocating tension.

"Maybe she doesn't just work for him," Piper finally said, her voice mechanically calm. "Maybe she's the one that turns him in the first place."

"Maybe," Chris murmured, but he didn't seem to believe it himself.

"Well, who is she?" Phoebe asked. "We can start from there."

"Her name is Salome —" his sentence went unfinished as a sudden invisible force slammed him backwards. An instant later the demon shimmered into the room. Piper attempted to blow her up but the woman was too quick. She dodged it, then she dodged the candlestick that Paige orbed at her, and then quite abruptly she stood over Chris. Paige started to orb a box at her, but she raised her hand and sent a shock wave at Paige, knocking her back against the far wall. Phoebe rushed to her aide.

"Kirjack has taught you well, Salome," Chris said, staring up at the demon.

It was as if all the room froze for a single moment.

"Chris . . . ?" Piper asked hesitantly, looking back and forth between the demon and her whitelighter, both of whom seemed locked in a staring contest.

"I was looking for a baby," Salome rasped at last, looking Chris up and down hungrily, "but I think I'll be able to work with you." Piper didn't even get the chance to raise her arms before the demon shimmered away with Chris.

She swore instead.

"Okay, now we _definitely _need to find her," Phoebe said, rapidly flipping through the pages of the book. "Salome, Salome . . ." she muttered. Leo appeared in the door way.

"What's going on?" he asked. "I heard a crash and —"

"The demon came back," Piper answered, "And she left with Chris. She took him. We were all too shocked to do anything. Where's Wyatt?"

"She took _Chris_?" Leo asked. "Why would she go for Chris?" When Piper only looked at him pointedly, he added, "Wyatt's sleeping. I have the baby monitor," he revealed it briefly to her, "And he can have his force field up for the few seconds it would take us to get to him if a demon does attack." Piper slowly nodded.

"So, Chris?" he asked again.

"I found something!" Phoebe called before anyone could answer Leo.

As Piper looked eagerly at Phoebe, Paige joined her sister in front of the book. "It's in mom's handwriting," Phoebe said, glancing briefly at Piper.

"What does it say?" Piper encouraged.

"'The Wentworth Witches'" Paige read. "Wait, you think she's a witch?"

"An evil one," Phoebe nodded. "See? That picture looks almost exactly like her sans the scar," she pointed at the picture of the red-haired woman glaring out of the _Book _at them. "She's not actually that ugly, but with the scar and the clothing. . . ."

"Basically it's a demonic requirement to be ugly, so she's just trying to fit in by ugly-fying herself," Paige informed them playfully.

Piper only snorted, asking again, "What does the page say?"

Her finger running beneath the lines as she went, Phoebe read aloud, "'At their start, the Wentworth Witches were as powerful a force of good as were the Warren Witches. Around the turn of the nineteenth century, however, fed up with the failure of mortal men to be good and faithful to the Wentworth women, Tabitha Wentworth turned to the only alternative available to her: demons.'"

"Woah, woah," Paige interrupted, "They traded men for demons? I mean, I know men can be pigs sometimes, but _really_?"

Phoebe didn't answer her, but only went on reading. "'Tabitha Wentworth was the first Wentworth witch to conceive a child with a demon, and after her it became a tradition. While the Wentworth women never intentionally turned evil, their rejection of their destiny as good witches and generations of Wentworth witches born of demon blood has made them, for all intents and purposes, evil beings. They retain the powers of witches in addition to possessing those of demons.'"

"That does _not_ sound like something we want to go up against," Piper commented dryly.

Phoebe held up her finger before continuing, "'In most matters the Wentworth witches are apathetic; they are little concerned with the battle of good versus evil, and are only roused to battle when they are personally brought into it. At all costs, a good witch should avoid arousing the interest of Wentworth witches.'"

"We did not _arouse_ the interest of the Wentworth witches," Piper scoffed. "_She_ came after _us _— after my son! And then she kidnapped my whitelighter! How is that _arousing_ her interest? Ha!"

"I'm still not done!" Phoebe trilled. "'As of 1973, Hestia Wentworth is the oldest living member of the Wentworth Witches and therefore the Matriarch of the family. She has only one daughter and three granddaughters. She possesses the demonic powers of shimmering and energy balls, as well as the witching power of cloning.'"

"Cloning?" Leo repeated ominously.

"Yup," Phoebe nodded, "Cloning. And that's all it says. Mom must have had an encounter with Hestia Wentworth and then she wrote this."

"Wait, so she doesn't actually say how to defeat them?" Piper asked, frowning.

It was Paige who answered her as she scanned the _Book_ herself. "Nope, it just says to avoid her." She ran a hand through her hair.

"Well, that's not very helpful!" complained Piper, exasperated.

"Are we thinking that Salome is Hestia's daughter? Or maybe one of her granddaughters?" Phoebe suggested, looking back and forth between Leo and Piper.

"Wait, there's something here at the bottom of the page," Paige said, squinting. "In teeny tiny little writing it says 'See Appendix D.'" She started flipping to the back of the book.

"Is it weird that our book on the forces of evil has appendixes?" Piper asked Leo thoughtfully. He only shrugged.

"Here we go . . ." Paige stopped at a page, quickly looking it over, "Ah, very nice." She nodded her head with a great deal of satisfaction.

"What does it say?" prompted Leo.

"It's a family tree," Paige answered. She looked up at them and smiled triumphantly. "The Wentworth Witches family tree." She glanced back down at the page, "And . . . yes, there she is. She's one of Hestia's three granddaughters — Salome Katya Wentworth. It doesn't say what her powers are, though. . . ."

"And it doesn't say who her demon father is, either," Phoebe commented, scanning the page beside Paige. "In fact, it doesn't say who any of the demon fathers are. Apparently they're for reproduction purposes only and don't warrant a spot on the family tree." She glanced up at Piper and Leo and made a face.

"Alright, then, so how does all this help us find Chris?"

"I think we find him by scrying for him," Paige suggested. "If she's a witch of any sort then she probably lives above ground, right? At least it's worth a shot."

"And if you find him?"

"Then we take some of those backup potions that Piper's been making lately and see what damage we can do with them," Phoebe answered Leo. "And if worse comes to worse," she crossed the room and picked up an athame, "We can slice and dice the bitchy witch and then make a vanquishing potion."

"Like for an upper level demon?" asked Paige, a slightly puzzled expression on her face as she cocked one eyebrow at Phoebe.

Phoebe nodded. "I mean, if the Wentworth witches use demons for reproduction, they're probably gonna pick the best of the crop, right? Upper level demon daddy means a vanquishing potion can be used on the witch."

Piper nodded, "Sounds good. Paige, you start scrying. Phoebe, you get whatever potions we might need. Leo, go see what the Elders might know about the Wentworth witches. I'll go and check on Wyatt." Everyone nodded as she spoke. "Okay — time to save our crazy whitelighter from the future! Let's go!" she started out of the attic as Leo orbed away.

Making her way to Wyatt's room, Piper couldn't help but let out a sigh. Much as she knew and accepted that being a witch was part of her — was a part of her destiny — it didn't make the hardships of it any less heavy. She couldn't remember a time when her mind wasn't whirling in chaos, trying to process and deal with a thousand and one different problems, demonic and otherwise.

Well, the otherwise she could handle. But sometimes the demonic. . . . And, really, she couldn't _always_ handle the otherwise — like how the hell was she supposed to deal with the fact that apparently she and Leo were going to have another kid — another son? And it didn't mean they were getting back together, either. After all, when Chris had been comforting Penny, he had invited her to the Separated Parents Club, saying Wyatt was the president.

That meant Leo and Piper did _not_ get back together. So what, they get drunk and lose themselves and she's stuck raising two babies all by herself? How was she supposed to react to that? Add to that the fact that her current son was apparently Satan's right hand in the future and that Chris _still_ wasn't coming clean with them, and it was shocking she hadn't imploded at this point.

She might not have imploded, but she sure as hell _exploded_ when she walking into Wyatt's nursery. His crib was empty. Piper spun in a circle, her eyes roving around the room. He wasn't anywhere in sight.

Wyatt was gone.

"WYATT!" she shrieked. Again and again she repeated his name. She shouted for Leo, too, and for Paige and Phoebe. She ran down the stairs in search of her baby but he was no where to be found. He wasn't in the house. Leo orbed to her in surprise and she knew the panic was written plainly across her. And judging by her hysteric screams, it was rather obvious what was the matter.

"What's happened to Wyatt?" Leo asked her, concern sparking across his face.

"Piper?" Paige and Phoebe hurried down the stairs towards her even as she collapsed against the wall, muffling a sob. She couldn't believe she was losing control like this; she needed to get a hold on herself.

"Piper, what's going on?" Leo asked. "Where's Wyatt?"

On top of everything else, how could _this_ happen? They'd left him alone for a minute,_ a minute_! "He's gone," Piper answered, taking a deep breath, and then another, and a third.

"He's gone?" Phoebe repeated in alarm.

Leo orbed away. There was a shout from upstairs. He orbed right back into the conservatory again. "The demon must have taken him," he said shortly, his eyes darkening.

"Why didn't he put up his forcefield? Why didn't he even cry for help? Did he and we just didn't hear him?" Piper rapidly fired off the questions as her heart squeezed painfully.

"I don't know," Leo answered grimly.

"Oh my god," murmured Phoebe.

"I'll scry for him," Paige immediately volunteered.

"No!" Piper stopped her. "I'll do it." She swallowed thickly. She'd had a momentary flash of panic. She'd lost control. But she sure as hell wasn't going to lose it again, not when he was in danger. She was going to scry for her son, she was going to find her son, and, damn it, she was going to _save_ her son. "Get all the potions we need, Phoebe," Piper instructed her sister. "I'm going to do worse than vanquish this bitch."

When the crystal landed on the location of a rundown apartment complex on the outskirts of town, a flood of emotions ran through Piper yet again. She'd been scrying for her son and she'd found him. He wasn't in the underworld. He wasn't dead. Now if she could just get to him in time. . . .

"Found him?" Paige asked eagerly.

Piper only nodded, "Let's go. Phoebe! Now!" Phoebe rushed into the room and quickly handed out eight of nine potion vials of varying colors. When she started to say what each one did Piper only shushed her. "It doesn't matter. They do damage, that's all we need to know," Piper dismissed the subject. "Let's go."

"I'm coming with you," Leo said. His face was set and was rather, quite plainly, _scary_. "Elder or not, I'm a father first."

"Okay, come, — either way, let's _go_," Piper insisted. Linking hands, the four orbed away. They landed in the hall of an apartment complex. Before anyone could knock, Piper blew open the door of apartment number fourteen. Her eyes had darted the entire length of the room within five seconds of arriving. It was a shabby apartment room; the living room and the kitchen were meshed together and it all smelt somehow _stale._

The curtains hanging over the one window were dusty and moth-bitten; the kitchen was stalked with messy dishes; and the single couch in the living room looked to have seen better days. Two doors stood opposite them.

Piper immediately stalked toward them with her sisters and Leo right behind her. Before she could blow these doors open as well, however, the one on the left opened and the red-haired demon witch stared out at them in shock.

What happened next happened in a matter of seconds.

Her eyes flashed, and, raising an arm, Salome Wentworth sent a shock wave of force at them. Leo and Phoebe were quick enough to avoid it, but Piper and Paige were both knocked backwards, and they banged against the far wall.

Salome raised her hand again to send Leo flying as well but he got her first — the bolt of electricity sent her flying into the room she had come from and the door banged all the way open, revealing the other occupants of the room even as Leo, Paige hot on his heels, ran into the room.

Wyatt was sitting on a bed and looked unhurt. Beside him, looking caught unawares and completely confused, was Chris. Piper and Paige, both back on their feet, rushed into the room right after Leo and Paige.

"Chris!" Piper shouted. Her eyes landed on Wyatt — "Wyatt!" She started towards him but he orbed into her arms before she'd gone two feet. She hugged him tightly. On the floor several feet away, Salome was attempting to stand up.

"Chair!" shouted Paige, throwing a wooden chair at Salome's rising figure and forcing her to slump unconscious to the ground again. Chris still hadn't moved, whether by choice or from shock or because Leo's eyes were trained on his, locking his gaze and trapping him in place.

"Chris, what's going on?" Phoebe asked. "What happened? What did she do?"

"What did _you_ do?" Leo asked menacingly.

"I —I —," Chris was at a loss for words.

Piper didn't understand what was going on at first, but suddenly, standing there staring back and forth between Leo and Chris as she hugged Wyatt to her, a realization dawned on her. But he _couldn't _have been helping her, not after what they'd seen. . . .

"You were working with her, weren't you?" Leo accused.

"What?" Chris exclaimed. "Leo — that's insane! I wouldn't —"

Leo didn't let him answer. He lunged at Chris in rage, and the next thing Piper knew, Leo had disappeared in a swirl of white and blue orbs with a shell-shocked Chris firmly in his grasp.

"_What_ . . . ?" Paige couldn't even finish the question.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god . . ." Phoebe chanted at a murmur, her eyes wide.

Piper let her gaze land on Salome Wentworth. It didn't make sense. Chris couldn't have been working with her; it wouldn't make _any_ sense at this point. But then how did she get a hold of Wyatt without alerting any of them? Why had Chris been simply standing in the room and not attempting to escape when Salome was busy fighting them? Why hadn't Chris looked anything like a prisoner?

It was all happening too fast, _way too fast._

And if Leo had asked himself the same questions in the minute that he had stood facing Chris — if Leo thought that Chris had been working with her — _it can't be _— then what exactly did he plan on doing?

Where had he taken Chris?

And what on Earth were they supposed to do now?

**TO BE CONTINUED . . .**

A/N: I know this chapter was a lot different from the others, but I couldn't have the sisters spend the entire story in Chris's head! While I don't want to give anything away, I will say that the memories they've seen thus far aren't the only memories the Charmed Ones will see — there are many more to come.

I can't really decide who I want to narrate the story, so I think at this point I'll just be switching from person to person depending on who is best for each particular scene. I hope I didn't go too fast in this chapter — there was so much that had to happen that I'm afraid I squeezed it all in way too quickly . . . but maybe fast is good?

Let me know in a nice review? ;) And, as always, thanks to those who have reviewed so far — you're my favorite people in the whole wide world!


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: To start off, I give you the usual disclaimer: I don't own Charmed; I write only for my own personal enjoyment and no infringement whatsoever is intended. And now on to Chapter Four! (Remember: the events of Chris Crossed did happen in this story, but after Prince Charming everything is AU.)_

The crack that sounded through the air was nothing to the shooting pain that sprung to life in his ankle as he slammed into the ground. Biting down on his lip, he muffled a scream, twisting slightly where he lay to get the weight off his foot. He looked up at Leo. "What the hell is your problem?" he spat at the older man.

His eyes darted around the room — or whatever it was — that Leo had orbed them too. It was dark and damp and dirty; the floor was made of cold stone, as were the walls. Chris had a sinking suspicion that they were a hell of a long way from home. In fact, he was pretty sure that they were actually _in_ hell.

"My problem is you," Leo answered darkly. "What were you doing with Salome? Were you helping her? Why? Answer me!"

"Or what?" Chris challenged. "Are you going to try and recycle me again? Huh? Is that it? Or maybe you're going to beat me up?"

His face tight with anger, Leo replied, "Don't tempt me. I very well could recycle you. And as for beating you up — I just might." He let the threat linger.

Scoffing at him, Chris spat angrily, "Aren't you supposed to be some all-loving Elder? Why is it that you hate me so much?! What have I ever done to you?" The pain in his ankle was immense, and comparing it to how terribly his wrist had hurt when Wyatt broke that two years earlier, Chris was pretty sure Leo had actually broken his ankle.

"What have you ever done to me?" Leo repeated. Shaking his head, he glared down at Chris. "I didn't trust you when I first met you, but I went against my instincts. I let you into _my_ home. Again and again I went against my gut feeling, and again and again you betrayed the trust I gave you. I'm tired of it. I'm tired of your lies and manipulation. Who is Salome Wentworth? How did you know her? Why are you working with her? And don't lie to me!"

Chris stared up at him for a moment. It was no secret to the sisters that he disliked Leo. But they didn't realize exactly _how_ much Chris disliked Leo. He didn't dislike him — he despised him. And as he glared up at the man, he felt the hate burn within him. It was at times like this that he could almost imagine how Wyatt could have turned evil.

"You've got to be kidding me," Chris finally muttered. He gingerly tried to move his ankle. It screamed angrily in protest. He tried to prop himself up slightly on his elbows.

"Excuse me?" Leo asked, stepping towards Chris.

Snapping his face back to Leo, Chris shouted, "GET OVER YOURSELF!" and spit unintentionally flew from his lips. He didn't care anymore. His ankle was burning, his head was pounding, the sisters weren't here — why the hell did he need to show any sort of self-restraint? That's all he ever did: show self-restraint. It was enough to make anyone neurotic.

When Leo only glared down at Chris disbelievingly, Chris carried on, meeting Leo's glare with one of his own. "You stand there like you know everything, like you're right about everything, like you're the very definition of good, but you're not!" he spat. "You don't trust me. You never have. All I've done is tried to help Wyatt. You remember Wyatt, right? Your son!"

"Don't you dare —!"

"What? Insinuate that you're a bad father?" His nostrils flaring, Chris sneered at him, "Well, hey, you wanted to know about the future, didn't you? There it is, Leo. Wyatt's the greatest evil this world has ever seen, and you're the worst _father_ this world has ever known."

The words hung in the air for a single, brief moment, before Leo lunged at Chris furiously. Chris knew it was coming, but he was helpless to stop it. Leo's fist slammed into his face, sending him backwards. The pain in his ankle worsened at the sudden movement even as his nose smarted from the attack. Leo pulled back his arm to deliver another punch, but this time Chris was fast enough to roll away, and Leo's fist slammed into the ground.

If he hadn't been in so much pain, Chris would have smiled at the sickening crunch that Leo's fist made as it hit the ground. That would hurt the bastard.

And it seemed to wake him up, as well. Stumbling back to his feet, Leo looked at his red and swelling knuckles and then back at Chris. He looked shocked at his own actions. Chris wasn't surprised. He always knew Leo would hit him someday.

"See what I mean?" Chris snarled. "Everyone thinks you're this paragon of good." He shook his head, "But you're not. And you say you don't trust me, you say you drag me to a cage and attack me, you say you follow me around, you hurl accusations at me, you drag me to wherever the hell it is we are —" he glanced helplessly around the dark, dungeon-like room, "you say you do it all because I can't be trusted, because I'm evil.

"But that's not it," Chris told him. "You do all that because you're so sick of everything that's happened to you, of all the sacrifices you've had to make, that you've got to take it out on someone or _you'll_ become evil. You can't take it out on the Elders, after all — you're a company man. How could you hate the company? So you hate me. You've always hated me."

Leo only stared down at him. Chris realized suddenly that there was a trickle of blood dripping from his nose — he could taste its bitter copper tang. He realized that his breathing was heavy, that his back ached — that it wasn't only his ankle that was in immense pain.

He was going to have bruises tomorrow.

"I can't trust you, Chris," Leo finally said. "And maybe I haven't always been fair to you, but I'm trying to protect my son in the best way I know how."

"By trying to kill me?" Chris snapped. Leo took a concerned step towards him. "Don't touch me!" Chris warned angrily. He was past the point of reason now. Reason would tell him to let Leo heal him. Reason would tell him to give Leo a little hint of the future in order to satisfy the older man. Reason would tell him to let Leo orb him back to the Manor, where he could rest and eat and plan out his next course of action.

But fuck reason.

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Leo said quietly, stepping backwards. Chris scoffed.

"No, when you orbed me here it was to have some beer and talk about the 49ers!"

"I just want to know the truth!" Leo, losing it again, yelled with frustration thick in his tone. Chris wasn't used to Leo losing his cool so often, but he didn't really care. If Leo wanted to yell and scream and throw a temper tantrum, Chris wouldn't stop him. "Why can't you just tell me the truth?" Leo asked.

"I have told you the truth! The sisters told you the truth, too! But you don't want to believe it; you don't want to believe that I'm not evil! I'm trying to save Wyatt, but you can't accept that, can you? You can't accept that maybe you fail at saving him so I have to come back to the past to save him!"

"I'm not going to fail my son," Leo said angrily, and Chris saw him valiantly trying to control himself. This was the Leo that he knew. This was the Leo with which he grew up. Not a man who was always yelling and fighting, but a man who was on the brink of yelling and fighting, a man who was angry but never furious, upset but never despairing — a man who, despite all his talk of emotions, never fully embraced his own. "I'm not going to let him get hurt."

"So hurting me is your solution?" asked Chris, his words bitter.

"If I have to hurt you to save my son, then yes."

Chris scoffed. "Some Elder, you are," he mocked. "Aren't you supposed to be benevolent to everyone — even secretive whitelighters from the future?"

"Not when it comes to my son. And you, you're not my son," Leo argued.

Chris stared for a moment. Finally, taking a deep breath and slowly shaking his head again, he agreed, "You're right. I'm not." And then, mustering every ounce of strength he had left, he attempted to orb.

He only got so far before the strength of the chamber to which Leo had brought them, the exhaustion and pain that overwhelmed him, and the protection spells that Leo had cast around them, prevented Chris from orbing. He fell to the ground in a heap, and the last thing he saw was Leo's face hovering near his.

Then it was blissfully black.

* * *

"And . . . just . . . one . . . more . . . knot . . . and . . . _there!_" Phoebe stepped back and looked over her work: Salmon Wentworth was securely tied to the old wooden chair they'd dragged to the middle of the attic. She was still unconscious, and her head lolled on her chest where she sat.

"Make sure it's tight," instructed Piper, flipping through the book to read over the passage on the Wentworth Witches one more time. Wyatt rested on her hip; as unsafe as it was for him to be in the attic with a demon, she was more worried about leaving him on his own.

"Oh, it's tight," Phoebe bragged. "She isn't going anywhere."

"And if she tries," Paige added, "She won't get very far." She waved the last crystal in the air triumphantly before placing it down to complete the circle around Salome. "That just leaves Leo and Chris. Where do you think they are?" she let her gaze travel from Phoebe to Piper.

"Do _not_ ask me," Piper shook her head. "I couldn't even begin to guess, and at this point it isn't even my biggest concern." Having found the page on Salome Wentworth, Piper began scanning it, her eyes narrowing in concentration.

"They'll show up soon," added Phoebe, crossing her arms over her chest and letting her eyes roam over Salome's motionless form. "I'm sure they're fine. We need to focus on Salome Wentworth."

"Yeah, see, I'm kind of thinking we need Chris to do that," Paige argued. "After all, he obviously knows her, and earlier, well, you know. . . ." she made a slight face and Phoebe sighed.

"Still, until Leo wants us to find them," Piper began, "There's not much we can —"

The swirl of blue and white orbs silenced a surprised Piper and a moment later Leo and Chris appeared. Leo's figure was bent over and it took Piper a moment to realize why: Chris was unconscious.

"Oh my, god!" exclaimed Phoebe, her eyes roving over Chris's swollen, bloody nose, the bruise blooming on his check, and the bloody, twisted mess that was his ankle.

"What happened?" demanded Piper as she started to make her way over to them.

"Later," Leo breathed. He let his hands hover over Chris, and soon the familiar golden glow of healing appeared. He healed Chris's ankle then traveled to his face. As the last of the blood disappeared, Chris took a gasping breath and Leo stood back quickly, his job complete.

"What —?" choked Chris, trying to scramble to his feet.

"Whoa, there," Phoebe warned, reaching out her hands as if to calm him. "You were pretty beat up there, take your time, now," she suggested.

"You don't want to get dizzy," Leo murmured.

"What happened to you?" Paige asked. "And why are you in such a hurry?"

Chris shot Leo a nasty glare. "_He_ beat me up, so excuse me if I don't want to hang around here," he spat, his eyes darting around the room as if to assess the situation.

"He as in Leo?" asked Piper, glancing between Leo and Chris.

"I wanted some answers," Leo answered curtly.

"So you beat him up?" Phoebe asked incredulously. "Leo, we told you — Chris isn't evil! We saw some of the future — we know he's trying to help Wyatt."

"And beating people up is so _not_ your style, Leo!" added Paige.

"I didn't mean for it to happen; I only meant to intimidate him, but —"

"But you have serious problems!" Chris shouted, and having made it to his feet, he started backing away from the sisters and Leo.

"I just want answers!" Leo demanded again. "Is that so bad?" he glanced at each of the sisters. When his eyes met Piper, she immediately broke his gaze. This wasn't the Leo she knew.

"I've told you everything you need to know!" Chris insisted.

"You haven't told us about Salome," Piper challenged. Every eye in the room turned to the unconscious demon tied securely to the chair. "_Were_ you working with her?"

"Leo thinks I was," Chris spat, glaring once more at Leo.

"And you haven't given me any reason to think otherwise," Leo responded. There was a tense moment of silence as no one knew quite what to say or do. Finally, it was Chris who spoke, addressing the sisters rather than Leo.

"Look, I know Salome pretty well in the future. Her full name is Salome Wentworth, and she's a part of a long line of witches who —"

"We already know this part," Phoebe interrupted. "The Wentworth witches decided to breed with demons, they have way too many powers, evil when not apathetic, and so on and so on. Oh, and Hestia Wentworth is the Matriarch and Salome is her granddaughter. But what were you saying to her? What _don't _we know?"

Chris ran a hand through his hair. "She's the youngest of three sisters and wasn't believed to be as powerful as her older sisters." Phoebe nodded. "Because of this, it was her sisters that her grandmother and her mother gave all the attention. The neglect . . . it kind of pissed her off. She ended up doing something none of the other Wentworth witches ever did," Chris explained.

"Which was?" Paige prompted.

Chris sighed. "Which was become close to her demonic father," he answered. There was a pregnant pause. "Most of the Wentworth witches kill the demons they breed with, but for one reason or another Kirjack was spared."

"Kirjack?" Piper echoed. That was the name Chris had mentioned to Salome right before she'd disappeared with him.

Chris nodded. "He's not a very powerful demon — Salome's sisters' fathers were much more powerful — but apparently he had something that none of the other demonic fathers did: affection for his witch offspring. She spent time with him and he trained her in everything demonic. As far as I know, her sisters and her mother and grandmother had no idea until she killed her sisters."

"She _what_?" Phoebe asked.

"She killed her sisters," Chris repeated. "They put up a good fight — hence her scar — but she had spent years secretly cultivating her demonic powers, and she was able to kill them both. She, ah, she once told Wyatt it was a way of proving to her grandmother that _she_ was the grandchild that ought to have been adored."

Whether it was his explanation of Salome killing her sisters or the mention of Wyatt, the words Chris spoke hung in the air as Piper, Phoebe, Paige, and Leo all attempted to digest everything. "You still haven't really explained what you were doing with her," Leo finally spoke again.

A flicker of something crossed over Chris's face before he tipped his head back and let his eyes fall shut for a moment, as if he were asking for patience. When he looked back at them, his face was blank and callous as he told them matter-of-factly, "The power she inherited from her witch lineage is the power to manipulate force fields, but the power she inherited from Kirjack is the power to see the future."

Phoebe opened her mouth to interject, but Chris didn't give her the chance. "Similar to premonitions," he explained, "But different at the same time. It's a lot broader than Phoebe's powers; she can see a great deal more at one time."

When no one said anything, Chris went on, "I realized immediately that the reason Salome had come was so that she could gather information on Wyatt — after all, he's kind of the talk of the underworld. And I realized . . . look, I know all about how Salome thinks, how she works, and I knew I could convince her to tell me Wyatt's future. It was my chance."

"Your chance?" asked Paige, raising an eyebrow at him.

"My chance to see if I'd changed the future yet," Chris clarified. Once more, his explanation was met with silence. He added softly, "I would never have actually let her hurt him. I might not be that powerful, but I'm more powerful than her."

"And what — that's it? We should trust you now?" asked Leo.

"Leo," Piper warned. There was still a tinge of anger and suspicion in his voice. As much as she herself was angry at Chris, as much of mystery as he was, she couldn't help but feel sympathy for him. He was trying to help Wyatt, and she would not let anything else trump that fact. . . . _Still_. . . .

"Look, Leo," Chris said, crossing his arms over his chest, "I get that you don't trust me. And I've accepted the fact that you will _never_ trust me. Our last trip to the underworld pretty much proved that." He flexed his ankle briefly as if to demonstrate his point. "But if you're willing to deal with me, then I'm willing to deal with you." He paused, adding meaningfully, "for Wyatt."

Phoebe gave a large nod. "I think that's fair," she declared.

"Me, too," agreed Paige.

"Alright — under one condition," Leo said, crossing his arms over his chest much like Chris had. Chris raised his eyebrows in interest, as if asking what it was Leo wanted. "You let us perform the To Heal a Heart spell one more time."

Chris let out a disbelieving huff. "Are you kidding me?" he exclaimed.

"Leo," Phoebe broke in, "I really don't think that's necessary."

"No?" Leo turned on her. "Phoebe, we can't continue to live like this. We need to get everything out in the open. If he isn't willing to tell us, then he should at least be willing to let us see it for ourselves."

"You — you're incorrigible!" Chris stuttered, turning away from them and starting to pace.

"Yeah," Leo nodded his head, "I am."

Chris paused and sent Leo a withering glare, "I didn't mean that as a compliment." He continued his pacing. "Look, I'm willing to forgive you for dragging me to a dungeon in the underworld, breaking my ankle and punching me in the face," Chris said, "but you still won't just _believe_ me?"

"Okay, look, people, I'm with Chris on this one," Phoebe said.

"_Thank_ you!" Chris pronounced.

"I mean, arguing over whether or not to trust him is just wasting time that _could_ be spend trying to save Wyatt. We already know he's telling the truth; what we saw is proof enough —"

"You're forgetting," interrupted Leo, "_I_ didn't get to see what you three saw."

"So you don't trust us now?" Phoebe asked.

"No," Leo sighed, "That's not what I meant; I'm just saying that —"

"You know, we didn't actually see any _proof_, per say," Piper piped up. She shifted Wyatt from her right hip to her left. She avoided looking at Chris. One glance at him had revealed the disbelief and even a glimmer of betrayal, neither of which she wanted to see. She felt sympathy for him, and she certainly didn't hate him . . . but it wouldn't hurt to see a little more, would it?

"What do you mean?" asked Phoebe.

"I mean that what we saw — it looks like Chris is definitely trying to help Wyatt. But we never really got to see Wyatt. And I, for one, am still having a little trouble believing that he turns as evil as Chris says."

"Damn it!" Chris exclaimed. "You people are unbelievable! Why would a lie about that, huh? Why?"

"Do you really want to ask that question?" Leo challenged stoically.

Chris only stuttered in disbelief for a moment, his eyes roving around the room and bouncing off everyone's faces. "Paige?" he finally asked, "A little help here?"

Scrunching up her face, Paige gave a helpless shrug, "I — ah, I'm kind of with Piper on this one." Chris threw his arms up in defeat, turning away from them and muttering to himself. Piper felt bad, she really did — how long were they going to play this game? But Leo was right: they couldn't live with any more questions.

Not when those questions involved powerful witches with demonic powers like Salome Wentworth. Not when those questions drove her compassionate and forgiving husband to drag another whitelighter to the underworld and sock him. Not when those questions concerned her baby boy, her beautiful son.

"Phoebe?" Chris asked.

She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. "I don't know," she murmured. "I just don't know. Maybe we _should_. . . ."

"Oh, come _on!_" Chris shouted. "Are you serious? Of all the times to so easily give in to your sisters you choose _now_?"

"Chris," Piper began.

"No, No! You know what — this isn't up to you four. This is _my_ head we're talking about here, and you are NOT going into it. Okay? End of conversation — that's it. I can't control whether or not you trust me, but I can control this."

He orbed away.

Phoebe let out a huff. "Well, that worked out well; great idea, Leo!"

Leo opened his mouth to reply, but Piper didn't give him the chance. "No, now is not the time for you two to start fighting." She handed Wyatt to Leo before turning her attention to the book and starting to flip through it again. "If we're going to get inside Chris's mind again, we're going to need a plan."

"You realize we're going to have to summon him here?" Paige asked.

Piper hesitantly nodded. "We'll make it up to him once we know what we need to know."

"You can use the To Call A Lost Witch spell," Leo suggested. "He is a witch — something else he neglected to tell us until too late."

"And Wyatt?" asked Phoebe.

"He'll come with us — he and Leo both," Piper said, glancing at her ex-husband and son.

"What about Salome?" Phoebe tried again. "I still don't think this is a very good idea. . . . I mean, maybe, if he'd agreed to it, but this is getting a bit out of hand —"

"Give Salome a sleeping potion," Leo suggested. "Paige made one, didn't she?" he glanced at her for confirmation and Paige gave a small nod. "Give it to Salome, then. Between the ropes, the crystals, and the sleeping potion, she won't be going anywhere anytime soon. It'll be enough time."

No one said anything for a moment. "Okay, then," Piper announced. "I've got the spell here. Phoebe — why don't you get the crystals to summon Chris into in case he puts up a fight?" She sighed. "I have a feeling he's going to put up a big fight. Paige — give Salome a sleeping potion." Both nodded and started off in opposite directions. Piper glanced at Leo.

"You better be right about this," she told him softly. He didn't reply.

* * *

"_Powers of the witches rise,_

_Course unseen across the skies,_

_Come to us who call you near,_

_Come to us and settle here._"

Piper, Phoebe and Paige were all positioned behind the book, Leo and Wyatt a few feet behind them, when the spell deposited Chris front and center. He looked around in confusion, but it only took a split second for him to realize what was going on.

"Okay, you did _not_ just do that!" he declared. He started to orb only to stop himself as he spotted the circle of crystals in which he stood. He glared at them in even greater disbelief. "No," he started shaking his head. _"No."_

"I'm sorry, Chris," Phoebe said.

"But we need to do this," Piper declared.

"No more secrets," Paige added. "It's for the best."

He continued shaking his head, his expression cold and solemn. "You're making a mistake," he told them. "There are things about the future that you shouldn't know. Things that you _can't_ know."

"We'll see about that," Leo said.

"What about Salome Wentworth?" Chris tried, glancing at the unconscious demon.

"We'll be back in time to deal with her," Leo answered. Chris only shook his head.

"This is a bad idea," he warned.

They didn't heed his warning. _"Across the sky, across the sea," _they began. Piper looked up from the book and her eyes met those of Chris. She was surprised to see not anger in his expression, in his dark green eyes, but almost a kind of sadness. But it was too late to change anything now.

"_Reveal to us what must be known,"_ their chant continued. Piper reached her arm back and grabbed Leo to assure he would come with them.

"_To understand thoughts all his own_!"

A brief moment of silence, of deafening silence, surrounded them. Then, in quick succession — so quick that it was almost as if all happened at once — Chris cringed, a roaring sound pounded through their ears and through their minds, lights and colors swirled and smeared around them, and blackness assaulted them as they were thrown off their feet.

Piper immediately looked back to Wyatt. He was safely in Leo's arms. Paige was helping Phoebe up, and Leo offered a hand to Piper. She took it, and as she stood she glanced around her. Although she could see her sisters, Leo, and Wyatt clearly, although her vision wasn't at all impaired, there was nothing else to see. Everything was black: the ceiling above them — if there even was one —, the ground, and all the space that surrounded them.

They were back inside Chris Perry's mind.

"Any idea where to start?" asked Paige, turning in a circle and eyeing the encompassing darkness.

"We start with Wyatt," Leo announced. "How does this work?"

"We think Wyatt and we yell out for him," Piper explained. She paused. "At least, that's what we think you have to do. That's what worked best last time." Phoebe and Paige nodded in confirmation. "Alright, so should we think about something specific or just about Wyatt?"

"Let's think about him turning evil — if Chris made it up, it should show us him planning that. If he really turned evil, it should show us proof of that," Paige summarized. Piper nodded.

"Sounds good; let's do this thing, then — Wyatt!"

"Wyatt! WYATT!"

Leo joined in the shouts, hugging his son closer to him even as he shouted his name aloud, "Wyatt! Wy —" He stopped mid-shout as a fireball whizzed past his ear. There was the sound of an explosion. He whirled around.

No one was there. All he could see was blackness.

"It's starting. . . ." Paige murmured.

Another explosion sounded in Leo's ear, and he clutched Wyatt even closer. What was going on? None of the sisters seemed too alarmed, although they were all looking around in search of something. The explosion was followed by a scream of pain that cut off abruptly.

"How do you like that, _bitch!_" someone snarled triumphantly.

Suddenly the blackness began to fade as it was rapidly replaced by the distinct surroundings and atmosphere that marked just about every where in the underworld: dark, dank, dirty and pretty much medieval. Leo felt the first trickle of doubt in his mind.

Maybe this wasn't such a good idea, after all.

**TO BE CONTINUED. . . .**

A/N: This took longer than the last few updates, and I apologize for that. Things got abruptly busier for me. I'm having a lot of fun with this story, though, so hopefully I'll get the next chapter written out and posted soon!  (I love writing the memories/future scenes. And there are many more to come in the next chapter. . . .)

Generally I really like Leo, but he did annoy me quite a lot in the sixth season and some of my annoyance may have shown through in this chapter. But don't worry; he'll redeem himself in the end! And now: review — pretty please?


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: I don't own Charmed or any of its wonderful characters. I write purely for my own entertainment, and no infringement is intended. As the usual reminder: everything is AU after Prince Charming. And now, I give you Chapter Five!_

* * *

The girl that stormed past them without a glance was short and slim. Her dark brown hair was cropped short and stuck up wildly in all directions; her eyes were dark brown, her face thin, and her features soft. But she was covered in dirt, sweat, and to Leo's horror — blood. And worst of all, the expression on her face sent chills down his spine. It was the kind of expression that made a person simultaneously pity and fear someone. It was an expression of utter hatred and repulsion.

"Is that Penny?" Phoebe whispered to Piper. Leo didn't understand.

"I think it is," murmured Paige, her eyes trained on the girl. The girl — young woman, really — was turning in a circle now, her wide eyes searching the dank, underworld cavern desperately.

"What does this have to do with Wyatt?" Leo asked Piper. She didn't respond.

"I know you're here!" the girl shouted out suddenly. Raising her voice even louder, she shrieked, "I know the truth! I know what you've done to us!" She spun around wildly. There was blood trickling out of her right ear. She was a hair's breadth away from hysteria.

"What's going on?" Leo insistently asked.

"We think that might be Paige's daughter," Phoebe filled him in. She didn't take her eyes off the girl, however. "We saw her in an earlier memory. She was younger. Her name's Penny." Leo looked over at the girl — at Paige's daughter. A memory flashed briefly in his mind. The sisters had been talking about the memory they had seen of Paige's daughter. Piper had asked Chris if it was true that Wyatt had murdered the girl.

Alarm suddenly shot through Leo. They had asked to see proof of how evil Wyatt was, but surely . . . no . . . it was a lie, anyway, wasn't it? It was all part of Chris Perry's plan; it had to be. No, no, never. . . .

"Come out, damn it!" Penny shrieked, whirling around in a circle again. "I know you did it! I know you killed her!" Abruptly she fell to her knees and let out a choking sob. "I know it!" she shouted to no one. "I know it! And I know you killed my father, too!" She was shaking with walloping sobs now.

Leo couldn't take his eyes off her. All of his instincts, as a whitelighter, as an Elder, as a husband, as a father — they were all whirling violently in his head, telling him to go to the girl, to comfort her. But he couldn't. There was nothing he could do.

"You fucking bastard!" screeched Penny, sudden renewed fury flashing across her face. "You might have everybody else fooled, but not me! I know you did it! I know you destroyed this family!" Her voice was scratchy and hoarse now; her shouts belonged to insanity.

"Wait a minute," Phoebe whispered, horror strung in the three words, "She's not talking to —"

"Did you kill Aunt Piper, too?" Penny screamed. "Did you?!"

Leo's eyes raced to Piper. Her body was rigid in shock. An animalistic urge of protectiveness ran through Leo. No. She wouldn't die. He wouldn't let her. _He would never let it happen._

"Now surely you don't hate me enough to accuse me of murdering my own mother." The words were slick and calm and set a rush of sickening emotions spiraling through Leo. A moment later, in a swirl of dark orbs, a tall, built man in a tight black t-shirt appeared in the room. His hair was a dark blonde mane of curls, his eyes were dark and narrowed, and a beard even lined the sharp edge of his thin jaw.

But Leo knew who he was nonetheless. _No._ He clutched baby Wyatt so tightly to him that the little boy squirmed uncomfortably.

Penny looked up at the grown-up Wyatt. Her face contorted with rage as she pushed herself to her feet. "I couldn't hate you _enough_," she snarled at him. "And it wouldn't surprise me one bit if you did murder Aunt Piper," she spat.

"God, no," Phoebe whispered, her hand coming to cover her open, gaping mouth. Piper still stood frozen, her eyes wide and trained on the scene that played out before them. Leo couldn't even begin to fathom what was going on in her mind. Surely it was similar to what he himself was thinking and feeling. The problem was that he couldn't even begin to fathom what _he_ himself was thinking and feeling.

It was too much. It was all too much.

Maybe Chris had been right.

But no_, this can't really be Wyatt._ It can't. It _can't._

Wyatt chuckled. "Now, really, Penny — don't you think you're being the slightest bit dramatic?" He shook his head. "Honestly, you're worse than Melinda."

"Don't say her name!" shrieked Penny breathlessly, her eyes bulging. "You have no right! You can't just stand there before me talking about the people you've _slaughtered_!"

Paige was shaking her head in horror. Leo didn't notice. He couldn't mind anything but the two twenty-something witches that stood before him, living out a memory that hadn't happened yet.

Wyatt only shook his head at the sobbing, shaking, shrieking girl before him. "I haven't slaughtered any member of our family, Penelope. I would never."

"So what — you got your demons to do your dirty work for you?" Penny rasped angrily. Wyatt gave a smile and it made Leo ill. _No._ "And don't lie; you won't get away with it. I know you killed my father with your own hands." Her voice shook.

Wyatt's face changed abruptly from apathetic to disgust. "Your _father_ was a mortal fool," he spat. "He was not a Halliwell. He only brought us down; dragged our name in the mud." He raised his chin. "So yes, I killed him. I did you a favor."

Before Leo could even process the horrendous words, Penny let out an incomprehensible scream and threw her hand forward. Wyatt was thrown backward with the force of her magic. He stood up instantly. "That wasn't very nice, Penny," he told her coldly.

"Fuck you," Penny responded. Wyatt smiled. The two stared at one another as precious moments ticked by, as Leo stared at them, unaware of the tears that had gathered in his lashes, unaware that Piper has sunk to the ground, unaware that his breathing was heavy, unaware of anything but the ghastly sight that unfolded before him.

It was Penny who broke the battle of wills. Her lip trembled and the strength she had so far presented in facing him wavered for the briefest of moments as she asked, "Why? _Why?_ Even if you could justify to your own sick mind killing — killing my father," she paused, as if the words were physically painful to her, "how could you kill Patty? Coop? Melinda?"

With each name she ticked off, Leo felt himself falling to pieces.

"Aunt Piper?" Penny whispered.

"I did _not_ kill my mother," Wyatt declared, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "I would never have harmed her." Penny only shook her head disbelievingly. Wyatt sighed, crossing his arms behind his back.

"If you must know, cousin, I avenged my mother's death. I decimated the entire clan of the demon that killed her. And as for Patty, Coop, and Melinda, I have only one word for you: weakness." His one word seemed to echo through the cavern, through Leo's head.

"Weakness?" repeated Penny, the word distasteful to her tongue.

Wyatt nodded. A sudden kind of fire seemed to light in his eyes. "Don't you understand, Penny? The Charmed Ones were the greatest witches of the age. Their children should be as powerful as them, if not more. But with eight children, how can every single one of their offspring be even half as powerful? I'll tell you — they cannot."

Penny was shaking her head, but she said nothing, and Wyatt carried on, taking a step towards Penny. "It only makes sense that the legacy of the Charmed Ones should be passed on solely to the children who deserve it, to the children who can honor it, to the children who can _surpass_ it." He paused, and then added scornfully, "Patty, Coop, and Melinda were not those children. They were weak."

"Patty was my sister!" shouted Penny, outraged, spit flying from her chapped lips, "_My_ sister — my baby sister! She was eleven years old. And you killed her — _you killed her_!" She raised her arms at Wyatt again, but he was too quick for her. He knocked her off her feet. Her ankle crunched beneath her with a sickening crunch. Leo knew it was broken—he had done the same to Chris. His hand shook inadvertently.

Wyatt gave another sigh. "I'm getting impatient with you, Penelope. I don't have time to deal with your _issues_. Patty was your sister, I am aware. But she was weak. Her power was that of _premonitions_. There are plenty of demons who can serve that purpose, and who can serve it better. And as for Melinda and Coop — they were pathetic _empaths_, of all things — as useless as their mother. I was doing this family a favor in exterminating them."

"Go to hell!" Penny snarled. "GO TO HELL!"

Wyatt smiled again. "We're already there, cousin." Penny began to sob again, her whole body shaking as her back curled and her hand trembled where she held it over her mouth. "Stop that nonsense," Wyatt demanded icily, his eyes glaring down at her. "You're making a spectacle of yourself."

"What do you want from me?" Penny shouted suddenly, hysterically, in response.

"You can not guess?" Wyatt smiled. When Penny said nothing, only gave a hiccough and stared up at him with glossy, angry, tearful eyes, he went on. "I want your loyalty, Penny. Of the Halliwell children, the three with the power to carry on the legacy of the Charmed Ones — you are one of them. Your magic is impressive, if not as powerful as my own."

Penny sneered at him despite her tears, pain, and despair. "I guess that means you're one of them too, huh?"

"Naturally," Wyatt replied.

"And who's the other one?"

"My brother, of course," Wyatt answered without hesitation. "His power is second only to my own." _His brother _— the words flashed a second memory though Leo's mind. Another phrase Piper had said, another question she had asked Chris: how did Wyatt have a brother?

Surely Piper wouldn't have a child with another man?

Leo didn't really ponder the question. He couldn't. His attention was too focused on his son — _no, God, please, no _— and his niece.

"He'll never join you!" Penny spat viciously. "Chris will _never_ join you, and neither will I! But we'll find a way to defeat you — we will!" she let the threat linger in the air. It didn't seem to affect Wyatt.

"My brother will join me," Wyatt said breezily. "How could he not? He will see the light before the end. Everyone will, if they wish to live. _Everyone. _Chris included, and you too. Join me, Penny, join my forces, unite your powers with mine —" his eyes flashed again with a kind of sick excitement before he added contemptuously, "or die as weak as your precious baby sister."

Slowly, Penny pulled herself to her feet. She flinched from the pain of her ankle. Her whole right foot was set at an odd angle — the wrong angle — and she shifted all of her weight to her left foot. She slowly straightened her back and raised her chin. "I will never _unite_ with you, Wyatt Halliwell. I will never use my magic for your sick, evil, twisted conquests." For the first time in a long time, her voice didn't shake.

Wyatt stared at her for a moment. "Evil is not everything the aunts told us it was, cousin. Evil is the only way to live, in fact. Why live the life of a good witch, when it means restraining yourself, holding back your powers — weakening yourself?" Wyatt sneered. "It is nothing short of foolish. The Charmed Ones could have been even greater had they embraced evil."

"The Charmed Ones would never have embrace evil," Penny said. She paused. "Aunt Piper would never have embraced evil. If you really loved her, Wyatt, if you would never have harmed her — how would you have explained yourself to her had she survived to see you become _this_? She would have done everything in her power to stop you from _embracing_ evil."

"Mom would have understood," Wyatt replied calmly. Penny scoffed in disbelief. "She taught me everything I know, Penny; she taught me the true meaning of power. And even if she was blinded by the pretenses of good and evil, she understood power. And I would have saved her flawed vision; I would have shown her the light."

"You're sick," Penny murmured.

"And _you're_ fighting a losing battle," said Wyatt. "Now: will you join me, Penny? Or do I have to kill you? And believe me, I can. And I will." Again, the two stared at one another, and the silence rang through the room. Leo's heart was pounding, his palms were sweating, his mind was reeling, but it didn't matter. He couldn't move, he couldn't think, he couldn't feel. All he could do was watch.

Suddenly, Penny's face warped and darkened, and she threw her arms forward. Wyatt, taken off guard, was thrown off his feet. Penny responded with everything she had: she orbed rocks at him, she screamed out spells that sent lightening spiraling at him from no where, she blasted him again and again and again, so that Leo couldn't see anything but flashes of light and dust and the twisted, tortuous face of Penny Halliwell shining brightly with perspiration, with blood, with unwavering determination.

And then Wyatt struck back.

Penny was thrown across the room like a rag doll. Her back hit the far wall with another sickening crunch. Emerging from the mess of Penny's spells, Wyatt menacingly walked forward. His shirt was shredded and singed, his shoulder was bloody, and a chunk of the skin on his cheek was gone. His face was too bloody to look straight at, but Leo didn't need to look at his face. He looked at his eyes.

He couldn't breathe when he saw what lay in the eyes of his son — his _son_. There was only one word to describe it all: evil.

"You've sealed your own fate, Penelope Halliwell," Wyatt announced, and his voice was dead and emotionless. "Chris will be upset. But he'll live." And then he shot lightening out of his hands and it surrounded Penny, lifting her into the air and spiraling over and under and all around her as her shrieks grew louder and louder and more and more agonized.

With each passing second, Leo felt his heart breaking, as if it hadn't already been shattered by what he had witnessed. He wasn't even aware he had sunk to the ground.

When Wyatt finally stopped his torture, Penny fell to the ground in a burnt, bruised, bloody heap. "I'm going to kill you now," Wyatt told her matter-of-factly. "Know this: I gave you a chance. I did not want to do this. But I cannot have you trying to kill me. More importantly, I cannot have you corrupting Chris. Good-bye, cousin." And he raised his hands again.

But he was too late. Penny breathed a single hoarse, whispered word — probably one of the last words she'd ever speak. _"Chris,"_ she cried, and a moment later she orbed away with whatever meager ounce of strength she still retained.

"NO!" shouted Wyatt, his eyes flashing. He disappeared a moment after her.

Leo barely registered when the scene faded into nothing, into blackness. He was crying, but it didn't matter. He hugged his innocent baby son to his chest, pressing his cheek to the boy's soft tuft of hair.

Paige was the only one still standing, and tears were streaming down her face, tears darkened black by her make-up. She stood motionless with her eyes were still trained on the spot her future daughter had orbed away. Phoebe was shaking her head furiously where she sat in a heap on the ground. She was crying, her hand half-covering and half-_in_ her mouth. The emotions were too much for her.

And as for Piper — her face held too much to explain. Only a few tears streaked her cheeks, but her complexion was deathly pale, her mouth was open and she was rocking back and forth on her ankles — back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. . . .

It was Phoebe who seemed to gather her wits up first. Slowly she lowered her hand from her mouth, and swatted at her eyes. Running a hand shakily through her hair she rose to her feet, sniffling and glancing around the room. She met eyes with Leo. He could see his own despair reflected in her gaze.

When she turned away from him, it was to embrace Paige. The youngest Charmed One had stopped crying, but she hugged her sister tightly, her fingers curling around Phoebe's sweater as she squeezed her eyes shut. Leo, still hugging Wyatt close, looked over at Piper. Her eyes were trained on a single spot off in space. He wanted to go to her, to hug her and whisper assurances to her and comfort her the way Phoebe and Paige comforted one another.

Hesitantly he started towards her.

He didn't make it two feet before Phoebe and Paige broke apart and they both came to kneel beside Piper. Leo held back. He wouldn't be able to comfort her. How could he? There was no comfort to be found after what they had witnessed. Leo felt an uneasy feeling spinning in the pit of his stomach. It had grown familiar over the last year, and it roared in strength now.

He realized it was the feeling of being jaded. He, an angel who believed in the power of good, and righteousness, and destiny, was jaded by it all. Maybe Chris had been right about him. The boy certainly hadn't been lying when he'd spoken of Wyatt. Oh, God—_Wyatt._ How could he have let his son turn into that . . . _demon?_

"I just can't believe this," Phoebe murmured. Leo looked over at her.

Paige let out a humorless, wet chuckle. "I guess Chris was right when he warned us that we didn't want to see what was in his head." She wiped at a stray tear.

"Now we know why he's so neurotic, at least," Phoebe agreed. "God," she shook her head, looking down with a heavy sigh and then up, letting her eyes fall shut for a single moment as if with the exhaustion of it all.

"So, what should we do now?" Paige asked timidly.

"We save Wyatt," Piper answered, surprising them all with her unexpected statement. Slowly, rigidly, Piper stood. She quickly wiped away her tears then glanced at each of her sisters and at Leo and her son. "Chris came back to save him. It's about time we starting helping him. I will _not_ let my son became what we just saw." Her eyes bore into her baby.

"And we won't either," responded Phoebe, coming to stand beside Piper and putting her hand on her sister's shoulder. Paige nodded empathetically. Leo caught Piper's gaze. Her eyes were darker with what they'd just seen, and despite her straight back and strong declaration, he could see the despair running circles in her eyes.

"We'll save him," he affirmed. Even if he couldn't do anything to assure himself, he'd sure do something to help Piper. He'd always do anything to help Piper . . . and to help Wyatt. That's what you do for family. He was briefly reminded of when Wyatt and Penny had mentioned Wyatt's brother.

Did he and Piper . . . was there any chance that perhaps . . . could they have another son?

And what about Chris? Not only had the young witch been telling the truth when he'd confessed what would happen to Wyatt, but it was obvious that Wyatt and Chris were friends of some sort. "_More importantly, I cannot have you corrupting Chris._" Wyatt had wanted Chris to fight with him, hadn't he? But instead Chris had opted to travel back in time and attempt to save Wyatt against all the odds.

And how had Leo repaid him?

"So, I . . . ah, I guess we should get home, shouldn't we?" Phoebe asked, looking between her companions.

"Yeah," Paige nodded, "But do you have any ideas how?" She raised her eyebrows skeptically.

Leo frowned. "How did you get back the first time?"

"It just sent us back," Piper answered. She crossed her arms over her chest, obviously doing her best to keep it together. "We didn't do anything. After the third memory — the one with Chris and Bianca — the spell ended."

"That last memory must have shown you what you came for, then," Leo suggested. "The spell isn't complete until you see what you specifically came to see."

"Didn't we specifically come to see if Wyatt . . . _turned_?"

Phoebe nodded, "And we definitely saw that." Silence reined in the blackness for a moment. "Okay, okay," Phoebe nodded her head resolutely. "Look, there's got to be something else. Did either of you have any other motives in mind when we cast the spell?"

Paige furrowed her brow. "I don't think I did," she answered tiredly. Phoebe looked over at Piper. Her older sister only shook her head.

"Maybe it was Leo, then?" Phoebe's face revealed her doubt at her own suggestion.

"I just wanted to confirm whether or not Chris was telling the truth," Leo said. There was a pregnant pause. "Maybe we haven't seen enough. Maybe we should try and delve a little deeper. See if we can discover any of other truths behind what Chris has told us so far. At some point the spell should fulfill itself."

"I don't want to see anything else," Piper replied sharply.

"Me neither, sweetie," Phoebe assured comfortingly. "What if we try something happy? Like _why_ Chris wanted to save Wyatt so badly? What connection they had? Are they the same age? Were they classmates? Neighbors? We could try finding out about Chris's family, too."

"That sounds okay," Paige agreed.

"Fine," Piper murmured. She looked over at Leo. Before he could say anything, she added, "But let me see Wyatt. I want to hold him." Leo didn't argue with her. He only handed the little baby over, and he couldn't help the wave of affection that crashed over him as he saw the way his one love handled their son.

"So. . . ." Phoebe let out a deep, preparatory breath. "Let's do this — Chris!" Paige joined in her sister's shouts. Leo glanced at Piper. She wasn't shouting. He didn't blame her. Clearing his throat, he yelled out the whitelighter-witch's name as well.

"Chris! Chris!"

"CHRIS!"

There was a loud, childish sniff. Leo whirled around and his eyes widened in surprise. Sitting in the darkness was a little boy with a dark mop of brown hair. His nose was running and his eyes were red, but he was determinedly playing with the G.I. Joe toys that surrounded him.

"It's Chris," muttered Phoebe as the sisters all locked eyes on the four or five year old boy. "It must be."

"Chris?" a voice called out from no where. Leo looked around for the woman the voice belonged to but it was a fruitless endeavor: he could see only blackness and the young version of Chris. Despite what he knew was happening, it still made him uneasy.

"Go away!" shouted little Chris. He made one G.I. Joe shoot the other, sending the victim flying through the air with a whoosh of air.

"Chris, sweetie, please let me come in?" the voice came again.

"Wait a minute," frowned Phoebe, tearing her eyes away from Chris to look over at Piper.

"What?" Piper asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"No!" Chris shouted childishly. "Lea'e me alone!" He continued persistently playing with the little soldiers. The other voice didn't respond for a moment.

"Sweetheart, I know you don't want to talk to me, but I want to talk to you. The kitchen is big and lonely without you, and I don't like it anymore. Can't I come in and play with you?"

"Oh, my gosh," Paige looked over at Piper too.

"_What_?" Piper made a face. Before either of her sisters could explain, color seemed to wash over everything, and the darkness was replaced by a bedroom. Leo recognized it as one in the Manor, but just barely. Nothing was the same: the bedspread, the walls, the carpet, the furniture. Toys he'd never seen littered the floor, and posters for movies he'd never heard of were plastered across the walls.

"Chris, honey?" came the voice again.

Chris paused in his play. He seemed to be thinking over the proposal. "I guess you can come in if you really want," he finally replied. He put his attention back on his action figures. A moment later, the door to the bedroom slowly entered, and Leo's eyes widened at the woman he came into the room and shut the door softly behind her.

It was Piper.

She was older — but not much — and her hair was short, barely brushing her shoulders. She'd pulled it half back and was wearing a dark green sweater and jeans. Her feet were bare . . . her ring finger was too. She was still as beautiful as always. How hadn't he recognized her voice?

"I knew it," Phoebe claimed triumphantly. Piper didn't say anything; she only stared at her future self, and there was almost an accusatory gleam in her eyes, as if she blamed this future self for letting Wyatt turn evil.

"Hey buddy," future Piper greeted Chris gently. She slowly came to sit beside Chris, crossing her legs. "What are we playing?"

"G.I. Joes," answered Chris, not looking at her.

"Ooh, that's one of my favorites," Piper told him. He didn't reply. Affectionately, she reached forward and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. When he didn't seem to acknowledge her, she picked up one of the toys.

"What's this one named?" she asked the little boy. Chris finally looked over at her.

"Mmm . . . I don't know," he shrugged uncaringly.

"You don't know?" Piper asked disbelievingly. "You don't know? Well, he needs a name, doesn't he?" Chris shrugged again. "What should we call him, huh? How about . . . Mufasa? What do you think?" she asked the toy. "Are you a Mufasa?"

"That's not a name!" protested Chris, a smile just barely crinkling the corners of his lips.

"Oh, no?!" exclaimed Piper. "I think it is. In fact, I think it's the perfect name! I Christian you, honorable G.I. Joe, Mufasa!" she told the toy, holding him out grandly. Chris giggled.

"Name some more," he insisted, handing her another of the action figures. "He doesn't have a name either!"

"He doesn't?" Piper clicked her tongue. "We better fix that, huh? Hmm. . . ."

Leo felt his heart widen at the sight. Piper began naming the G.I. Joes that Chris eagerly handed her, making the little boy giggle with the names she produced. The affection between the two was obvious, and Leo wondered how it had come to be. Chris said he lost his family. Maybe he was so close to Wyatt because after his parents died, he'd come to stay at the Manor? After all, it would make sense if his parents were among Leo's charges. Although, as an Elder. . . .

"He's so cute," Phoebe murmured. Leo smiled. He was a sweet little boy. How could he have misjudged him so badly for so long?

"Leo," Paige breathed suddenly.

"What?" asked Leo, not looking away from future Piper and Chris.

"No, I mean — _Leo!_ Look!" Leo's eyes shot in the direction Paige indicated, and his breath stuck in his chest for a moment. Standing in the doorway — apparently having opened the door without alerting anyway — was him. It was his future self, the future Leo Wyatt, looking much the same as he did now.

He wore gold Elder robes, and his hair seemed prematurely grey. Leo didn't know what to think or feel. What is one supposed to think or feel when he sees his future self? Future Leo leaned against the doorway, a small smile playing on his lips as he watched Piper and Chris, neither of whom were aware he was watching them.

When Chris fell laughing into Piper's lap and she wrapped her arms around him, future Leo finally spoke. "Well, it looks like the big birthday wasn't ruined after all, was it?" he asked, smiling.

It was like someone had flipped a switch.

Little Chris looked over at Leo and the smile on his face slipped off instantly. "Chris —" Piper began, a note of distress in her voice. Chris didn't give her a chance; he stumbled from her arms before she could stop him.

"Chris," said future Leo, a slight frown creasing his forehead.

"No!" Chris protested, even as he orbed away.

Future Leo let out a deep sigh, even as, biting on her lip tiredly, Piper pushed herself to her feet and brushed off imaginary dust from her jeans. "I should go talk to him, shouldn't I?" Leo asked her. He nodded as if she had told him yes.

He had barely begun to orb, however, when Piper stopped him. "No," she said, running a hand through her hair. Frowning, Leo paused and looked to her for some sort of clarification. "I just —" she shook her head, closing her eyes briefly, as if she didn't know how exactly to phrase what she wanted to say. She looked tired.

"What's the matter?" asked Leo, concern spread through his voice.

"What's the matter?" Piper repeated. She let out a disbelieving huff, and when she looked over at future Leo, there was a definite gleam of annoyance in her eyes. "Are you kidding me, Leo? I — you know what, I think you should just go. I'll talk to Chris."

"Piper," Leo said. "I know that you're upset, and I know Chris is upset, and you both have every right to be, but —"

"No!" Piper interrupted. "Do _not_ patronize me, Leo." She shook her head at him. "But you're damn right Chris is upset. And right now, all I'm interested in is making sure he doesn't _stay_ upset. It's his birthday, Leo, his fifth birthday. And it was supposed to be a really, really good birthday." She paused, daring Leo to say anything. "Obviously," she finally huffed, "that's not going to happen anymore. Not after what you pulled."

"Piper!" Leo protested. "I don't think —"

She didn't let him keep going. "Just, no, just listen to me — I think you should leave. Right now, talking to Chris won't get you anywhere, and I think it'll just upset him more. You two do need to talk — and make sure that this doesn't happen again —, but not now, Leo. Not today. The boy needs a break."

"_Piper_," future Leo repeated, "Can I please talk now?"

"What could you possibly have to say?" future Piper asked, crossing her arms over her chest and looking over at Leo with more than a gleam of annoyance. Future Leo looked both stung and rather annoyed himself at Piper's tone.

"I have responsibilities," he told her. She let out yet another huff, rolling her eyes. "Piper!"

"Oh, come _on_, Leo! Spare me the responsibility speech for once! I think I could give it myself at this point you've used it so many times!" Piper complained.

"No matter how many time I tell it, doesn't make it any less true," Leo snapped. Piper didn't reply. "Now, I know you're angry. If the situation were reversed, I'd be angry too. But I _couldn't_ come today, okay? As an Elder, there are certain times were some things take precedence, and —"

"Okay, no!" Piper interrupted again. "Chris should _always_ take precedence, Leo. Especially when it's his birthday, his fifth birthday, and you have been promising for months — _months_, Leo — that you would come to his party. But do you come?" she let out a humorless, sarcastic laugh, "Oh, no, you're too _busy_ with _more important_ things. So you send a note half an hour before the party that has him holing up in his bedroom!"

"I'm sorry, Piper!" Leo shouted, his self-restraint wavering. "But I _couldn't_ come —"

"Oh, and you know what the worse part is?" Piper asked, plowing right on and ignoring Leo's protests. "It's that he calls your name when he finds the note, he calls it again and again, nearly crying, and you don't respond. So do you know what he does? He marches over to Wyatt, shoves the note at him, and tells him, 'You call him.' And do you know what happened then, Leo?" Piper rounded on Leo, having previously been pacing, and her eyes were ablaze. "Wyatt says casually, 'Hey, Dad?' and you appear _instantly._"

"Piper —"

"I mean, never mind the fact that one of the first things that occurred to him was to have Wyatt ask because he knows you _always _come for Wyatt, even when you can't be bothered to come for him —"

"Enough!" Leo shouted. "You know it isn't like that, Piper! I couldn't stay for the party. I had pressing obligations. And when I heard Chris shouting for me, I knew he was upset that I couldn't come. And I knew that if I went to him, he would be even more upset when I had to leave. I thought it would be better if you explained to him why I couldn't come, and then he and I could talk and have our own private celebration later.

"But when Wyatt called me, I had no idea what it was about, and I had to check in on him in case he was in trouble! And I —"

"That's laying it on a bit thick, don't you think?" Piper cut in. "I mean, God — how can you even justify that to yourself? This was a big day for him, Leo! Paige was in one place for ten minutes; Phoebe was willing to give being Model Mom a break for an hour to come to the party. But _you_ of all people can't show up for five minutes!"

"You know what, Piper?" Leo asked darkly, "This is getting us no where. I'm going to talk to Chris." Once again, before he could orb, Piper stopped him.

"I never understood it before now! And, you know what, I still don't understand it!"

"What?" future Leo frowned.

"You always hear about parents that favor one kid over another, but I couldn't even believe it. I mean, kids are all different; there are different things to love about each of them. They're all special in their own way, and there's no way you can love one over another. But, oh, no, I've finally realized that a parent definitely _can_ love one kid more than another, and honestly, Leo, I just don't get how you can do it!"

"Piper," Leo breathed angrily. "If you're accusing me of —"

"Of loving one of your sons more than another?" snapped Piper. "Damn right I am! You _adore_ Wyatt, Leo! You're always there for him when he needs you; you're a caring, loving dad to him no matter what! But Chris — God, half the time I think you actually forget that _Chris is your son_!"

Future Leo and future Piper stared at one another with flushed faces and glinting eyes.

Leo didn't know what to do. He tried to process what was happening, but he couldn't go it. He could barely even swallow. His lungs were burning, his head was pounding, and his limbs were heavy all of a sudden. He couldn't believe it. He'd heard wrong. How could . . . ? But . . . ?

"Oh, my god," Phoebe muttered, and tears had welled up in her eyes again. Leo knew what she was thinking about, he knew she was remembering all the things they'd said and done to him when all along he was —

"I love Chris, Piper," future Leo murmured. "I love him just as much as I love Wyatt, and I try and do my best by both of them."

Future Piper shook her head. "Maybe you do," she conceded softly, "maybe you don't. I don't always know anymore." she told him simply. Leo opened his mouth to reply, but he paused. He glanced up. "Let me guess," Piper gave a sneering smile, "they want to talk with you. _They_ need you, and it takes _precedence_, right?"

Looking rather defeated, Leo told her, "We'll finish this conversation later." He orbed away, and for a moment future Piper only shook her head, staring at the spot from which he'd disappeared.

After a moment, she sighed. "Chris?" she called. "Chris, sweetie, can you come back?" she paused, adding, "Daddy's gone." Leo felt his heart constrict when, after another brief moment, a swirl of orbs brought five-year-old Chris back into the room.

His nose was running again, his eyes were bloodshot, and he stood pathetically before future Piper. "Honey," she murmured, kneeling to his height. She pulled a tissue out of her pocket and tried to wipe his nose. He pulled out of her arms and refused to meet her eyes.

"I want to cancel the party," he announced, wiping uselessly at his nose. "I don't want it anymore."

"I think you do," future Piper told him softly. He shook his head vigorously. "Sweetie, Chris — look at me. Look at me, Chris." The little boy hesitantly met her gaze. "Come here," she instructed. He took a hesitant step towards her, and she reached out and grabbed his little hands. "Do you know who you are?"

He nodded. "Who are you, little man?"

"I'm Chris," he murmured.

"That's right," she nodded her head. "But who else are you?" Chris shrugged. "You don't know? Then I'll have to tell you. You're a Halliwell. You're Aunt Phoebe and Aunt Paige's clever nephew. You're Wyatt's loving little brother. And most importantly of all, you're my son. My smart, sweet, funny son," she pulled him closer to her. "And you're so, _so_ special to me. I don't know where I'd be without you."

Little Chris didn't say anything. "Do you know who you remind me of?" Piper asked him. Chris shook his head. "You remind me of my big sister, Prue," Piper told him. "She was the best big sister in the whole world, and I loved her so much. She's up in heaven now. And even though I love Wyatt, and he's a wonderful son, I think Prue knew that I wanted another little boy, one who would cook with me like you do and would like to read the same bedtime stories as me just like you. She knew I _needed_ another son. And you know what she did?"

"What?" Chris asked timidly.

"I think she sent you to me. Because you're just like her, see. You're smart, and funny, and you have such a big heart," she pressed a hand to his chest, "and you can always make me smile," she brought his hand up to her lips and kissed his chubby fingers. "I love you, buddy, you know that, right?" Chris nodded furiously, and he let himself fall into Piper's arms. "I love you," she assured him again, "So, so much."

He wrapped his little arms around her neck, and while Leo could no longer see Piper's face, he could see Chris pressing his face into Piper's neck, his eyes squeezed shut as he clung tightly to her. "I love you too, Mommy. I love you so much."

"I know, baby, I know. . . ."

Leo barely noticed when the colors began to smear together, when the bedroom before him disappeared. The image of Piper and Chris hugging was burned into his head, and it stood before him even as everything seem to go blank — sight, sounds, smells — and when he was left in a heap on the floor of the Manor attic, the sight of future Piper and five-year-old Chris was still all he could see.

"Salome's gone," Paige said suddenly.

Leo glanced over at the spot when she'd been tied down. The chair was broken, the ropes in shreds on the grown, and the crystals tossed here and there. Leo hardly noticed. He was as unaware of his surroundings now as he had been when the spell had abruptly ended and taken them out of Chris's head.

Chris.

Leo let his eyes travel across the room to the figure that lay motionless on the ground. He took in his pale face and his dark brown hair. Piper, Phoebe, and Paige were all staring at him too. Leo couldn't believe it. All this time, how couldn't he have known? How couldn't he — or any of them — realized? How could Chris not have told them?

Chris groaned. And with every eye in the room trained on him, he rubbed his forehead with his hand and slowly opened his eyes.

**TO BE CONTINUED . . .**

A/N: It took a bit longer to get this chapter up, but as you now know, its a pretty huge chapter in the greater scheme of things! While I easily could have dragged out the revelation, (and although I considered trying to find a way for Chris to actually confess it or mistakenly admit it), I decided it would be best to go ahead and reveal it now, and therefore allow plenty of time for the various Halliwells to properly address the big revelation. What do you think?

Thanks so much to all those who have reviewed thus far -- I greatly appreciate it! Many of you have thoughts concerning The Charmed Ones, Leo and Chris that are identical to my own -- and thoughts that get me thinking -- and I love to read both! :) Please continue to review!


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: For a while I was short a computer and had to get by on sparse visits to my sister's computer. However, as soon as mine was repaired, I finished off the sixth chapter and can, after the longest (I'm sorry!) wait thus far, present it to you! As always: I in no way own anything related to Charmed, and my fiction is purely for entertainment. No infringement is intended. Enjoy!  
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Piper couldn't take her eyes off of him. Her head was threatening to explode with all the information that had been thrown at her in the last day — proof of Wyatt's true identity most painful of all — but as she watched Chris reach back an arm to push himself into sitting position, all she could think about was the revelation of _his_ true identity.

He was her son. He wasn't friends with her son. He wasn't a neighbor or the son of a charge. He was _her son_. He was Wyatt's little brother. And all this time, she'd treated him terribly. Even when she and her sisters were on good terms with him, he still went to sleep at a club every night. And how had he spent Christmas? How had he spent his birthday? Oh, God, she'd known him for months and she didn't even know his birthday.

It looked like she was a good mother in the future. The interaction she'd seen herself have with that adorable five-year-old boy was enough to melt anyone's heart. And he was _her_ son. But what did he think of her now? What was going through his mind when she yelled at him or kicked him out of the house or ignored him?

How was he able to so callously call her Piper? Was it difficult for him?

Question after question ran wildly through Piper's mind, through her heart, all in the brief span of a single moment, in the one moment it took for Chris to get to his feet and send a hesitant glare at them. She watched his eyes take in the ropes and chair from which Salome had escaped. He started shaking his head.

"You see?" he asked them furiously. "I told you this was a bad idea! She got away. The demon got away! If you had listened to me, we could have gotten her to reveal what she knows about Wyatt, and then we could have gotten rid of her. But no, that's not going to happen now! God!"

Rubbing his forehead in frustration, he turned away from them.

Did he know that they knew? He wasn't acting like it. Did he suspect it? Did he fear it? Why would he fear it? Why wouldn't he want them to know he was family? Why hadn't he told them from the very start? All the pain, all the mistrust — it all could have been avoided if they had known. And now. . . .

"Chris," Paige murmured softly.

"What?" sighed Chris, looking over at them, "You want to ask me questions you shouldn't be asking that you don't need to ask? Go on, I know you've got something." His eyes were hard and his expression unfeeling. It was nothing new for Chris Perry . . . but what about Chris Halliwell?

"We _know_," Phoebe told him. Chris frowned. There was something in his eyes Piper couldn't read. He was her son and she couldn't even read the emotions that clouded his face. Did she even know anything about him? How could he be her son when he . . . when she . . . after they . . . after _everything_?

"What did you see?" he finally asked. His eyes darted to each of them, as if waiting for one of them to accidentally give something away.

"We saw proof that Wyatt was evil," Leo told him. Piper looked away from Chris for the first time to glance at Leo. She could recognize the emotions churning in his eyes. She knew her own eyes mirrored his: the confusion, the despair, the regret, the hesitance.

"Good," Chris answered, crossing his arms over his chest. "Does this mean you'll finally start listening to me? You'll actually _help_ me save him?" Leo nodded. "Good," Chris repeated.

"We saw — we saw him kill my daughter," Paige burst out suddenly. Chris looked affronted for a moment. His eyes softened in the next moment, however.

"You shouldn't have had to see that," he told her.

Phoebe frowned. "Wait, but how did we?" she asked, looking over at Leo and then back at Chris, confusion etched into her face.

"What do you mean?" Chris raised his eyebrows. "Did you already forget that you did a spell to project yourselves into my mind against my will?" His lips were a grim line.

"No, what I mean is — it's just," Phoebe looked over at Paige and then at Piper, as if hoping they would cotton on and help her out, but neither responded, "— how were we able to see that? I mean, we were in your mind, so we should have only seen _your_ memories." She paused, adding with an increasing frown, "You weren't there . . . were you?"

Chris sighed, and he looked down at the ground for a second. He started to walk in a causal pace back and forth a few feet of ground. He didn't look at any of them as he spoke. "Pen came to me right before he could _finish_ her. She was so bloody, and beat up, and I was horrified, and I didn't know what to do. . . . She could hardly speak, but she kept trying to tell me something.

"Finally, she got it out: 'my book.' She was telling me to get her book."

"Her book?" asked Paige.

"She had her own book on magic," he explained. "Almost her own Book of Shadows. Penny, see the thing is — she — she always wanted to do things on her own in her own way. She started the book when she first started practicing magic. She used to say it separated her magic from the family's magic. It kept her magic from defining her, or something."

He had stopped walking, and he was staring off into space, as if he could see the fiery brunette right before him even now. After a few tenuous seconds, he seemed to shake himself. "Well, I orbed the book to me. And she flipped through it, and she stopped on one of the spells she'd written herself. She was always writing spells." He gave them half a smile. It slipped from his face so quickly Piper wasn't sure if it had even been there in the first place.

"It was a memory spell. At one point in her life, Penny got obsessed with finding out exactly what her parents were like when they were younger. She called it borrowing their memories."

"So . . . you borrowed her memory?" Paige prompted.

Chris shook his head. "No. I couldn't. She died right after. . . . But she said his name. Her last word: Wyatt. It didn't take me too long to realize she was trying to tell me he was somehow involved in what happened. I used the spell on him.

"That was his memory you saw. And it was the start of . . . the start of so much. Everything else before happened slowly, so slowly I didn't even know it was connected . . . but after Penny was killed . . . everything went to hell."

That was the closest Chris had ever come to sharing anything with them, and Piper didn't know what to say. No one did. There was so much she wanted to say, so much she wanted to ask, but none of it seemed right. Nothing seemed important enough. Yet it was all _so_ important . . . too important to have been ignored for so long. And no matter what else was happening her mind could never stray far from the single fact that _he was her son._

It was Chris who finally broke the silence that had fallen thickly over them. "What, ah, what else did you four see?" his voice was guarded, as was his expression. And Piper knew for what he must be fishing. He must have tried to gauge if they knew when they returned from his mind for the first time. And he had recognized that they didn't know the truth.

But they knew it now. And any second now he would realize it.

"_Everything_," Phoebe answered.

"Everything?" Chris repeated. "Jeez, Phoebe, do you think you could give me a _little_ bit more to go on than that?" His gaze traveled between them. Even if Piper didn't know him as well as she wished, she could see the flickers of understanding dawning in his eyes.

"We know the truth, Chris" Leo answered. His voice was strained. "The first memory we saw was of Wyatt killing Penny. And then . . . we saw your fifth birthday party. We know who you really are."

Chris started to back away from them, and this time Piper could have recognized the gleam in his eyes even if he was a complete stranger. He was alarmed. "Chris . . ." Leo murmured softly, painfully, and he took a step toward Chris.

"No," Chris said abruptly, giving Leo a contemptuous glare. "Don't do that."

"Chris, we know who you are!" Phoebe exclaimed, unable to stop herself. "We know you're our nephew!"

"And our _son_," Leo added empathetically. Piper couldn't make her lips move even if she'd tried. "We know you're Wyatt's little brother." Leo took another step towards Chris, and the conflict on his face as he tried to get close to his son was painful to see.

"_No_," said Chris again, shaking his head vehemently. "Look — it doesn't change anything!" There was a tint of desperation coloring his sudden declaration. "The main goal we're all striving for is saving Wyatt. That's all that matters. And now I think we'd better focus on trying to find Salome before she —"

"Chris, how can you not acknowledge what we're saying to you?" Phoebe broke in, her voice passionate.

Chris's gaze sharpened. A kind of determination solidified on his face. "I acknowledge it," he answered curtly. "Is that all you want? Fine, you're right. Perry isn't my last name. It's my middle name. I'm Christopher Perry Halliwell." The words echoed in Piper's head. Chris added bitterly, "It doesn't change anything."

"How can you say that?" Leo asked him.

The look that passed over Christopher Perry Halliwell's face wasn't a kind one. He looked at his father with disbelieving eyes, with sneering lips, with a disdainful expression. "Do you remember what you told me after you orbed me to the underworld, broke my ankle and punched me in the face?"

Leo flinched.

"Well, do you?" Chris demanded.

"Chris," Leo shook his head desperately, "I didn't know."

"You said I wasn't you son," Chris plowed on, "And I said you were right." His eyes bored into Leo, burning into him. "You were right. Just because you happen to accidently knock up Piper and lo and behold, I come along, doesn't mean you're my father. It doesn't change how we feel about each other."

Piper's heart seized. How could he talk like that about Leo . . . about them?

"Chris," Phoebe whispered, and Piper recognized the strain in her voice — Phoebe was on the verge of tears. How could she not be? Piper couldn't believe she herself hadn't started crying. How had she just stood here all the time, watching it all play out, unable to take her eyes off of Chris — off of her son?

"You know what," Chris shook his head. "This is pointless. We have a demon to catch, and a baby to save. I suggest you start trying to focus on that. I'm going to go see what I can find out about Salome."

"Wait," Piper finally breathed. She might as well have saved her breath.

Chris had already orbed away. And it was only once he was gone that Piper, still clutching a confused Wyatt, finally began to cry. It was too much. It was way too much. Wyatt would turn evil. He would kill his own cousin. Piper would raise two sons as a single mother. Chris was her son. And Chris hated her entire family — herself included. She hadn't given him any reason to feel otherwise.

_Chris was her son . . . and he hated them._

* * *

He slammed his fist into the wall.

The pain that shot through his hand was enough to tell him he'd have nasty bruises covering his knuckles. He didn't care. He shook his hand, as if to shake away the pain, and then kicked viciously at the chair he'd crammed into his make-shift bedroom. It flipped over and he kicked it again. He rammed his fist into the table. The pain was threefold.

He collapsed onto his bed. Damn it. _Damnitdamnitdamnit!_

Damn _them. _

If they'd just listened to him, if they'd trusted him, if he'd been able to _make_ them trust him, then none of this would have happened. They wouldn't know anything. They wouldn't know the truth. He scoffed to himself. They had said it over and over again –"We know the truth, Chris," they'd told him.

What the fuck did they know about _the truth_?

And, hell, the way they'd looked at him — like they were so unbelievably sorry. Why? Because they'd suddenly realized he was family? Did that mean they automatically loved him now? What was sorry good for anyway?

They'd been sorry in the past. His whole fucking life they'd been sorry.

Paige had always been sorry that she was too busy saving the world to pay attention to Penny or to Chris or to anybody that mattered. She was sorry that she couldn't come to Penny's first school play because she had a charge in Zimbabwe that needed her and she was sorry that she couldn't help Chris with his homework because there was a demon attacking a tribe in South America and . . . Sorry, sorry, sorry. . . .

Phoebe had always been sorry that Chris was so often alone and forgotten . . . but she was never sorry enough to give him even five minutes of her time. She was never sorry enough to do anything other than spend every waking hour lavishing affection on her own children and ignoring him like everybody else. _"I'm so, so sorry, Chris, but I have to pick up Melinda from daycare and I need to help Charlotte with her homework and I'm really sorry but I need to get going. . . ."_

Leo had always been sorry for everything. He was sorry that he couldn't be there for Chris . . . he was sorry that he missed the doctor's appointment when Chris broke his leg, he was sorry that he couldn't come to Chris's little league game, he was sorry that he couldn't be there for this or for that . . . and he was sorry that Chris couldn't understand why. And now he was sorry that he'd treated Chris like shit for months.

And as for Piper, well, she had always been sorry, too. Sorry that her sisters had grown apart from her and from him; sorry that Leo was never around and didn't give a damn about him. Sorry that for all her efforts and all her love, she could never truly take away his pain and soften the blows. Sorry that, clutching his hand tightly in her own, she was leaving him for real, leaving him for good, abandoning him in a family that spent all their time being sorry. It was the last fucking word she said. _"Baby, I'm so sorry. . . ."_

Sorry. It was his least favorite word in the world. If you could kill a word, Chris would have done in "sorry" ten years ago. It had never done anything for him in the past. Why would it do anything for him now? And he couldn't deal with this. There was a reason he had planned everything out, a reason he had set up an elaborate scheme to get himself positioned as their whitelighter. They _couldn't_ know the truth.

But they'd taken all his carefully laid plans and shot them to hell.

_Damn it._

What was he supposed to do? He didn't want to have deep, meaningful conversations about his past, and his thoughts, and his feelings. He didn't want to listen to their ardent apologies. He didn't want to let himself get close to Phoebe or to Paige, no matter how much kinder and more caring they were in this time. . . . He didn't want to get attached to Piper, or have to forgive Leo.

He wanted to deal with Salome, he wanted to save Wyatt, and he wanted to go back to a world where nobody cared . . . a world where, maybe, if he was lucky, Penny might still be alive, and Bianca, too, and that was all he needed.

But what if they tried to get back into his head? He couldn't have that.

He'd just have to put up with them. He'd listen to their apologies. He'd feed them a few lines. He'd establish a new relationship with them, one that would keep them at a safe distance but satisfy them at the same time. And then he'd finish what he'd started.

But he'd take a shower first.

No need to hurry back to them. It wasn't like they'd have anything new to say.

* * *

It happened less and less often as the years passed, but she suspected it would never entirely stop. No matter how long she lived, Phoebe Halliwell would always, on this or that occasion, find reason to wish her big sister Prue could give her a little advice. Prue would know what to do with Chris; she would know how to handle him and how to reach out to him.

Phoebe suspected Prue would probably have never mistreated him in the first place. Phoebe sighed. Maybe that wasn't true. Maybe she was just idolizing her; she'd always done that when Prue was alive — put her up on a pedestal — and even more so after her death. Maybe if Prue were here she'd have absolutely no idea what to do either.

Still, there was no harm in wishful thinking.

There was no help either, however.

"What are you thinking about?" murmured Paige, and Phoebe glanced at the doorway where her sister stood.

"Are you kidding?" Phoebe asked sadly.

"Chris?" Paige questioned knowingly.

Rubbing her hands over her face, Phoebe nodded, "I don't even know where to start. I mean, what do we do now?"

Paige let out a desolate chuckle. "Wrong girl to ask," she replied, entering the room and falling onto the bed beside Phoebe. "I can't get the image of Penny out of my head. And the things Chris said . . . and that earlier memory . . . I never thought of myself as a mother, but in the back of my head I always had this idea that when I did become a mom, I'd do a good job."

"You will," Phoebe encouraged softly. Paige didn't look convinced.

She carried on her list of worries, "And when Leo handed Wyatt over to me . . . how can he really turn evil? How can someone so small and sweet and innocent become the person we saw in that memory? How could he do that to Penny?"

"I don't know," Phoebe murmured, shaking her head again, "I just don't know."

They sat in silence for a moment, their thoughts dancing around the same difficult subject. It was Paige who broke the silence. "What are we going to do about Salome?" she asked softly. "Is she really a threat we should be worried about?"

"She is if she's the one that turns Wyatt," Phoebe answered tiredly. "But honestly, I can't even think about that now. How can we deal with Salome before we deal with Chris? He's our _nephew_, Paige, our _nephew_."

"I know," Paige agreed. She paused, frowning slightly. "Oh, god, you don't think I ever flirted with him, do you? 'Cause that'd be _really_ gross."

Phoebe let out an inadvertent laugh. "That's not the only thing that unsettles my stomach. Think of everything we accused him of! And when he was trying to convince us not to go into his head and he turned to me for support and I just blew him off — what must he have thought of me?"

"I'm pretty sure Chris doesn't think too highly of any of us, Pheebs," Paige answered.

"Yeah, but _why_?" Phoebe asked searchingly, desperately. Paige only shrugged. Having appeared at the doorway a moment before, Leo answered.

"It's probably my fault," he murmured, and both girls looked over at him. Phoebe felt her heart widen with sympathy. She was feeling so terribly about her own treatment of Chris, but it couldn't be anything to how Piper and Leo were feeling. Leo, especially — the things they'd seen, the way Chris had treated him once they'd spilled the beans — it looked like Chris _despised_ Leo. Phoebe could see evidence of Leo's feelings on his face.

His eyes were bloodshot, his face pale, and his expression troubled. Leo was one of the most loving and caring people Phoebe knew — he valued family as much as Phoebe did. How could he possibly be a bad father? "Leo, now that you know the future, you can change it. The Leo I know would never treat his five-year-old son like that," Phoebe told him comfortingly. Leo nodded.

"I know," he said, "But what about the way I've treated him since he first arrived?" His words were tortured, and they reflected Phoebe's own feelings. She hated when this happened; she hated when the emotions — emotions with which she was usually so in-tune — became too much of a burden.

They needed to deal with Salome, yet. . . .

"Okay, well, we can't fix everything with Chris while we have a demon to deal with," Paige said, as if she could read Phoebe's thoughts, "So let's find Salome, find out what she knows, and then get rid of her. Then, when Chris comes back, we'll talk to him and we'll. . . ."

"Fix everything?" Phoebe finished bitterly, raising her eyebrows.

"_Yes_, Negative Nancy," answered Paige, standing up. "So, Leo — can you find out anything else we might need to know about Salome from the Elders?" Leo gave a hesitant nod. "Good — I'll go get some potions ready. Phoebe, will you make sure Piper's alright and get her ready to deal with Salome?" Phoebe nodded as well.

"Alright-y then," Paige nodded her head. "Break, team!" Leo orbed away, despair still written across his face. Paige started out of the room only to glance back at Phoebe, who was still sitting on her bed, starting off tiredly. Paige took a few steps towards Phoebe and laid a hand on her shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze.

Phoebe looked up at her little sister. "We'll make this okay," she murmured. She gave Phoebe a small, encouraging smile. Phoebe gave her the best smile she could. A moment later, Paige had left the room to start in on the potions.

Phoebe's smile lingered. She couldn't get Prue's advice. But that was okay.

Paige was just as good. And they'd put this family back together . . . or they'd stop it from falling apart in the first place. Gathering her strength, Phoebe stood.

* * *

"There you go, little guy," murmured Piper, laying Wyatt down in his crib. "How's about we get some sleep, huh?" she cooed at him, pulling a blanket over his tiny, innocent body. He stared up at her quietly, and it broke her heart that all she could see when she looked at him was the man he would become.

No.

She'd save him. He _wouldn't _become that man. Chris had traveled back in time to assure that very fact; he had risked everything to keep Wyatt from becoming that man, to save him.

Chris. _Chris._

Piper turned away from Wyatt and closed her eyes for a moment. She ran a hand over her hair. A part of her wished she could go back in time herself. Not to change anything, not to save anyone, but simply to go back to a time when life was simpler. Sure, when things in the past had been happening she hadn't thought anything simple, but looking back. . . .

It was never as hard as she thought at that time. Was that how she would look back on this time in her life? No, it couldn't be. Having her baby son turn evil and her future grown-up son hate her would never seem simple to her, no matter how many years passed.

At the soft sound of orbs, Piper opened her eyes, expecting to see Leo.

It was Chris. His clothing was fresh, and judging by his damp hair, he had just showered, too. He still looked weary, however; dark circles surrounded his eyes.

"Hi," she said a little breathlessly. Her heart was suddenly beating erratically, and loudly, too — he could probably hear it, for God's sake.

"Hey," he murmured. He didn't look directly at her, but instead stood aloof, staring at nothing, his hands shoved into his pockets as he rocked back and forth on his heels.

"You're my son," Piper breathed, not exactly sure what she wanted to come from that statement. As soon as the words left her lips, she was alarmed. The last time they had confronted Chris about his true identity — the only time they had confronted him about his true identity — he had yelled at them and orbed away. That had only been an hour and a half ago.

"Yes," Chris answered, timidly meeting Piper's gaze. "If you and Leo ever get back together, that is." Piper's eyes widened at his words. She hadn't even thought of that! How could she have not thought of that? Obviously she hadn't conceived Chris yet, but if Leo was his father . . . and she and Leo wouldn't actually get back together, but. . . .

"Sorry," Chris muttered abruptly, and Piper frowned at him as his one word tore her from her spiraling thoughts. "I probably shouldn't have brought that up, huh? The less you know, the better, right?"

Piper didn't really have a response. "You'll be born," she finally settled on. She tried to sound confident. She wasn't sure whether or not she succeeded. Before he could reply, she added suddenly, "And we'll save him."

And then, without her even having time to realize what was happening, his eyes were locked with hers, and she felt herself melt under the intensity of his gaze. It made her think of Prue, and the words her future self had told five-year-old Chris echoed in her head.

"Yeah," Chris finally said, breaking their gaze. She felt as if she'd lost some sort of vital connection with him, and desperation to get it back bloomed in her chest. There was no denying it now. This boy — this man — with his mop of brown hair, his unfaltering persistence, his neurotic habits, his endearing half-smile — this was her future, her flesh and blood, her child, as much her baby boy as the softly sleeping baby in the crib beside her.

He sighed, saying tiredly, "Look, I'm sorry I just orbed out earlier. I tend to orb when I get frustrated, or freaked, and I just. . . ."

"It's okay," Piper assured him immediately. "We kind of ambushed you." He nodded. She wanted to say something else, but nothing seemed right. Where did they go from here? What happened next?

"I didn't tell you for a lot of reasons. Mainly because I didn't want to change the future . . . or at least, change it in any way besides saving Wyatt . . . I just . . . I didn't realize how long it would take. I didn't realize how long I would have to lie to you."

He met her gaze again. "I'm sorry."

There didn't seem to be any sort of emotion in his voice; she couldn't detect a hint of strain, or feeling, or affection, or pain. His face was hard. His eyes, though, there was something glimmering there — pain. It was pain. And maybe, if it wasn't too terrible to believe, there was a bit of affection.

Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

Still, Chris had never been one to show much emotion. Oh, he couldn't hide his anger, sure, and he wasn't always very good at lying . . . or maybe he was the ultimate liar. Never in a million years would Piper have guessed his true identity. Even when Wyatt and Penny had been talking to one another, and Wyatt had spoken of his brother, of Chris, Piper hadn't been able to put two and two together.

"Piper?" prompted Chris, once more tearing her away from her thoughts. _Why didn't he say Mom?_ "Are you okay?" Chris furrowed his brow in concern.

Piper quickly shook his head. "Yes. Yes, I am. And it's okay. I mean, that you didn't tell us the whole truth. I — I understand." It took a moment, but when Chris replied, he sounded satisfied, if nothing else.

"Good," he said, nodding his head. His eyes had left hers once more.

What else could she say? She had to say something, but what? How could she make this right? What was _this_ anyway? Why did it have to be this hard? Was there any possible way to make it easier?

"I'm sorry about . . .," she shook her head, slightly flustered, ". . . about everything. We should have trusted you." He didn't give any sort of immediate response, so she added timidly, "I really am sorry."

"I know," he told her. And then, as if noticing her current state, he added grudgingly, "It's okay." Once again, Piper was involuntarily reminded of Prue, and the way she would treat Piper and Phoebe when she was angry at them but refused to deal with it. Why did she suddenly want to connect Prue and Chris together on every level? Just because her future self had mentioned it to comfort a sad five-year-old didn't make it true.

And comparing him to her dead sister didn't make anything better . . . at least, not really. Maybe it was just desperation. Maybe, even if she was incapable of matching up Chris with Leo, or with Wyatt, or with herself — maybe she could match him up with her dead big sister. And maybe that would make him family . . . _for real_.

God, when did her life become a soap opera?

"So, what's the plan for capturing Salome?" asked Chris, breaking the temporary silence that had leaked into the room and encompassed them.

"I — I don't know," answered Piper, running a hand through her hair. "I think Phoebe and Paige might be working something out or . . . or something. Ah — should I check?" Why did she just ask him that? She had never deferred to him before now.

He didn't seem fazed by it. "You better," he said seriously, as if there was nothing emotionally charged about their earlier conversation or the earlier discoveries. As if nothing had changed since that morning. Did he want to pretend nothing had changed? How could he possibly expect that of them?

"Oh, Chris — I —," Phoebe's voice softened as she stepped into the room and her eyes roved hungrily over his face, "Hey," she smiled at him.

"Hey," he nodded his head tiredly at her. She opened her mouth as if to say something only to change her mind and close it again, biting down on her lip. Piper saw her brow crinkle and her eyes flicker with concentration, and she realized that her sister must be trying to gauge what Chris was feeling. Apparently she came up blank, as she looked over at Piper helplessly after only a moment or two.

Silence was surrounding them again. Piper had the desperate urge to turn a radio on, or throw something glass against a wall, or flip the switch on a blender — just so that there could be some sort of sound, some sort of noise . . . some sort of plausible excuse for the lack of communication.

"So, ah, Paige is working on some potions for Salome," Phoebe finally began again, her eyes racing back and forth between Chris, who had been staring silently out the window, and Piper, who was wringing her hands and inadvertently grinding her teeth. Bad habits are hard to break. "And Leo went to —" her words were interrupted with her own shout of surprise.

She was thrown backward as if she were a rag doll, and her back slammed into the far wall. Piper immediately looked over in alarm at Wyatt, who had already put up his force field at the exact moment that Salome Wentworth had appeared in the room. The red-haired Demon Witch raised her hand to send another force field spiraling through the air, but Chris grabbed the arm with shocking daring, and the room seemed to freeze much the way it had in the attic when Salome had come and taken Chris.

"Unhand me," Salome hissed.

"We never finished our business," Chris replied calmly, and Piper found her eyes trained on him. His knuckles were white as he gripped Salome's arms, and his whole body was tense. His eyes seemed to darken and his gaze was piercing. Most noticeable of all was the power that suddenly seemed to envelope and emanate from him.

How had Piper never noticed that before?

Phoebe groaned, and Piper rushed towards her sister's slumped form. She could feel Salome's eyes on her as she helped Phoebe sit up. "I told you," Salome snarled, "I won't make myself prey to the Charmed Ones."

"Do you honestly expect me to believe you?" asked Chris, his voice cold and calm still.

"I didn't attack you when I woke to find the Charmed Ones gone and your limp, pathetic body shaking and shuddering on the ground, did I?" she challenged. Piper was facing her again now, and she noted that power to rival that of Chris seemed to seep from Salome as well.

"I was surrounded by crystals. They protected me," Chris said. Salome only sneered. "Besides, you weren't exactly worried about the Charmed Ones when you first came after Wyatt, were you?"

Chris suddenly yanked Salome closer to him, and then, his voice barely more than a dangerous breath, he said, "Tell me what I want to know or you won't have to worry about the Charmed Ones killing you — _I'll kill you._"

"Fine, you're right. I don't fear the Charmed Ones," Salome spat. "And if you so desperately want to know about Wyatt, why shouldn't I tell you? It would only be telling you what I myself want to learn. Fine."

"Good," Chris released her, and she recoiled away from him. Chris took two hurried strides towards Wyatt, who let his force field drop. He picked the little boy up in his arms and told Salome grimly, "Let's go."

"Wait," protested Phoebe, who, having gained her bearings again, was pushing herself into sitting position. "We should come with you —"

"No," Chris interrupted swiftly. He paused, adding gruffly, his eyes searching both their faces, "Don't you trust me?" There was no way to answer correctly and go with him. Phoebe tried anyway.

"Yes, of course, sweetie, but —"

"What if just I came with you?" Piper interjected. She looked at Chris pleadingly.

He stared at her for a moment and then abruptly broke his gaze. "Fine. Come. Whatever. Just don't get in the way."

"I won't," Piper said, only half indignant with him. She glanced at Phoebe and gave her little sister a reassuring nod. Phoebe reluctantly nodded in reply.

"If you take two long, Paige and I will come looking for you," Phoebe warned, her attention directed primarily at a sneering Salome, who stood silently hunched over in the far corner of the room, her eyes filled with a kind of disgust at the scene that played out before her.

"Okay," Chris agreed. He reached out a put a hand on Piper's shoulder. The warmth of his palm shot through her, and it seemed every nerve within her was hyper aware of his touch.

"Follow me," Salome directed. She shimmered away.

A moment before Chris orbed after her, taking Piper and Wyatt with him, he looked over at Phoebe. "Don't worry. We'll be back, and we'll bring Wyatt safely with us." Phoebe nodded again, but before she could say anything, Chris added, "And don't call me sweetie."

Then they were gone.

**TO BE CONTINUED . . .**

A/N: So, there was a lot of emotion in that chapter, and it was a little scattered as well, since I wanted to get in multiple POV. If only I'd been able to fit in Leo, right? This chapter answers some questions and opens some new ones, and hopefully you're still interested in what happens next! There will be more memories -- although not for a little while -- and more will be explained about in what capacity Salome worked for Wyatt, what exactly is the story with Penny, and how things between Leo and Chris fell apart. So stay tuned! And please -- pretty please, with cherries on top -- review.


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N: I know, I know -- I literally took FOREVER to get this chapter out. However, my life suddenly took a very busy turn and, combined with my inability to decide in what order I wanted my ideas for this story to play out, the update is coming rather late. I will try and update sooner, but to be honest, it won't be as quick of an update as those first few chapters were. As always, I don't own Charmed in any way (I would have kept Chris for longer if I did!) and this story is written purely for entertainment, no infringement intended. And remember -- this story is completely AU after "Prince Charmed" in the sixth season. :)_

* * *

Piper was surprised.

The room that Chris orbed her into wasn't the traditional demon lair. At least, it wasn't as far as her experience with demons and the underworld went, and she was pretty sure that her experience was hard to match.

Chris, however, looked quite at home, and Piper realized that her experience was nothing to that of Chris. How had she never thought of that before now? Sure, she and her sisters knew, and often even said aloud, that he had "demonic connections," but she had never really thought about what that entailed.

The room was large, the ceiling high, and it was strangely light and clean. There were pillars in the corners, the wall was painted white and the floor was dark marble. Maps and blueprints papered the far wall, candles were melted into alcoves in the wall and there were books, more than Piper could count, stacked in pile after pile littered around the room. A large brass bed complete with sheets and throw pillows was in one corner, a small kitchenette in another, and a large table drowning in papers stood in the center of the room.

It was a demon apartment complex.

Suddenly Piper frowned. "Wait, what about that apartment we were at earlier?" she looked at Salome, standing disdainfully by the bed and glaring at them, but she addressed Chris.

"I have more than one place of business," Salome answered sharply.

"Oh," said Piper, glancing at Chris and Wyatt. "Well, okay then."

"Are we going to do this or not?" Salome hissed at Chris, her eyes flashing.

"Don't snap at me," he replied coldly, stalking forward and setting Wyatt down gently on the table. Piper took a hesitant step towards them. She trusted Chris, she really did, but she still didn't like the idea of this red headed demon witch _experimenting_ with her baby son.

As Piper stepped closer, Chris stepped away. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked over at Salome with raised eyebrows. "Well?" he prompted. She sneered at him, her nostril flaring, and then took a few hurried strides over to Wyatt.

Her fingers were long and scarred, and when she touched them to Wyatt's face, Piper couldn't help but wince a little. Salome began to stroke his hair, and after a moment or two of what seemed like quiet contemplation, she looked up at Chris. "How do you know so much about me?" she asked him.

"You tell me," Chris answered curtly.

"That's what you said when I asked you how you knew of Kirjack," replied Salome.

"Yes, and you _still_ haven't told me. I thought you were supposed to be _good_ at telling the future." He paused, and a crude little half smile curved his lips, "Apparently I don't know you as well as I thought I did."

Salome gave Chris a loathing glare. She turned away from him, flipping her ratty red hair over her shoulder as she turned to face Wyatt. She bent down so that her head was level with his. Piper stepped to the right a few feet in order to see their faces. Wyatt was completely calm despite the scarred face of a demon that hovered a few inches from him.

"Why isn't his force field up?" Piper asked Chris, frowning.

"Because he trusts me now, and I trust Salome, and he can see that," Chris answered breezily. He didn't look at her. Piper looked back at Wyatt and Salome and saw, to her amazement, that sometime in the last minute, Salome's eyes had begun to glow a brilliant green.

And with Piper looked on in widening fear, Wyatt's small, round eyes began to glow bright green as well. Piper took an alarmed step towards them, starting to protest. Chris stopped her with a hand on her arm. He gave her arm a squeeze of reassurance.

She froze, looking over at him. "Don't worry," he told her. There wasn't a trace of a smile or any kind of affection on his face, but the expression he wore was a familiar one; it was the expression she associated with Chris and had since he'd first come back from the future. It was comforting in a way.

Abruptly, Salome rose. And Wyatt was left blinking rapidly in confusion. His eyes were normal again. Piper couldn't help herself: she crossed what little distance was left between him and her and picked her blonde baby up in her arms, cradling him to her. Neither Chris nor Salome tried to stop her.

Instead, Chris put his entire focus on Salome, as if Piper wasn't even there. "What did you see?" he demanded of the demon. Piper glanced between him and Salome.

Salome was smug. That couldn't be good.

"A lot," Salome answered. "This boy will be more powerful than anyone before him."

"We kind of already knew that," Piper interjected, annoyed. She always did hate a smug demon. "In fact, the whole world kind of knew that. Except you, apparently." Salome glared, and Piper was pleasantly surprised when Chris snorted.

"He'll also bring magic into the open," Salome said calmly. "He'll wipe out the Cleaners. He'll revolutionize magic. Did you know _that_?" Piper didn't, and she was sure her surprise showed. How did one even go about 'wiping out the cleaners?' How had no one stopped him? He couldn't possibly be _that_ powerful. . . .

"Yes," Chris answered. "I did."

"Of course you did," Salome smirked at him. "You're from the future, after all." She glanced at Piper, as if hoping to have spilled the beans. Piper sent her a nasty glare in reply, and, unfazed, Salome turned back to Chris, saying, "Which begs the question, why do _you_ want to know about the future? Shouldn't you know all that there is to know about your own brother?"

Piper wondered how she would have reacted to that if she hadn't learned only a few hours earlier of who Chris really was. That would sure have been a hellish way to find out. Of course, no way of finding out at this point would be a bed of roses.

"If you're as clever as you think, you should already know the answer," Chris answered her. "Think about it," he patronized, "Why did I come back from the future?" His voice was thick with annoyance, as if she were a child pestering him. Piper resisted a smile. He was playing her, wasn't he? He was certainly in his element. A part of it saddened her — how much of his life dealt with demons? Yet a part of it made her proud: her son could handle his demons, and he could handle them well.

"To change it, I'd assume," Salome said, "But if I were your brother, I'd have killed you before you could get the chance do such a thing." She paused, as if appraising Chris, before continuing, "I suppose everyone has their weakness. Even the powerful Wyatt Halliwell falls short when it comes to dealing with his baby brother."

"He's evil, then, in the future you see?" Chris asked, ignoring her comment.

"Oh, I understand," Salome smiled, "You came to see if you'd been successful in saving him. You hoped I'd see his future as a good witch." Her grin grew wider, "Sorry to disappoint." When Chris said nothing, she went on, "I'm intrigued, though, by your actions. Why go to all this trouble to travel to the past and then not just kill him? He can't stop you as a baby," Salome glanced distastefully at baby Wyatt. "Unless, of course, it's because he's _your_ weakness."

Chris didn't answer. Instead, he told her coldly, "I know yours, Salome Wentworth, so don't try that on me." The two glared at one another, and Piper was hit with another sudden realization. She had known it all along, in a way, yet she hadn't really realized what she knew. . . .

Salome Wentworth wasn't just one of many demons that would work for her evil son. There was more to it than that. Chris didn't simply know of her. He truly _knew_ her. He had known to come to this strange liar. He knew how to speak with Salome, how to deal with her and manipulate her. How closely had she worked with Wyatt? Was it possible that it was _she_ that turned him?

"What turns him?" Chris asked abruptly, demandingly, yanking Piper from her thoughts.

"If it was as simple as that, why would you wait to ask me now?" Salome replied. She was unendingly smug again, and although Piper had never really liked any demon she'd come across, she particularly hated this one.

"What turns him?" Chris repeated, once again ignoring Salome's comment and waiting for a direct answer to his question.

Salome seemed to consider him again. "I'll make you a deal," she finally said, and her eyes were alight with something that made Piper's stomach twist. "You answer me three questions _I_ want to know about the future, and then I'll tell you want you want to hear more than anything else."

Chris only stared at her.

"Surely you don't think I'd be brazen enough to try backing out on my half of the bargain?" she added, her eyes flashing at him as if she was issuing a challenge. As far as Piper could tell, Chris accepted.

"What are your questions?" he asked with a flat face and a hard voice. "And as soon as I answer them —"

"I'll tell you what you so desperately desire to know," Salome finished, nodding her head.

Piper couldn't believe this. It was so sudden. After all this time, would it really be this easy? Would she really tell them what they so desperately needed to know? And if such was the case, why _hadn't_ Chris come to her earlier, as she'd asked?

"First," Salome began, speaking lazily but keeping a steady gaze with Chris, "Answer me this: under what circumstance will your brother and I come to work together?" Piper frowned. She was confused.

"That's really all you want to know?" Chris looked skeptical.

"No, that's simply my first question. And come now, Christopher Halliwell, I thought you knew me so well. Surely you know that the only future I can't see is my own." She paused, and when she spoke again, it was with emphasis on every word, "When will I first meet your brother?"

"He'll come to you," Chris answered slowly. "He'll make you . . . see into my future. He'll ask you to tell him how I can be turned."

"What will I say?" Salome tilted her head at him.

"Is that you second question?" Chris challenged.

"It's an extension of my first," she answered calmly, slyly, as if she was loving every minute of their exchange, of the power she held and the manipulation she wielded.

"Extensions aren't a part of the deal," he said stonily.

Her nostrils flared. "They are now. And considering I have all the cards, I'm the one to make the rules. Or perhaps you don't want to know how to save the future nearly as much as you say. . . ."

"You tell him that the only way to turn me is to invest my future in the demonic world," Chris told her angrily. His fists were balled. For a single moment, his cool wavered. A moment later, however, and he was in control again. Piper was intrigued. Without realizing when it had hit her, she suddenly wanted to be the one peppering Chris with questions, able to get answers out of him even when he was angry. As awful as it sounded, she desperately wished she had some sort of leverage over him with which she could get answer after answer.

"And what does he do?" Salome prompted. She stepped closer to Chris, and her eyes seemed to widen and focus in on his. He responded by narrowing his own eyes, and she flew backwards with the force of his magic. Instantly, her robes flapping around her as she did so, she rose from the heap in which she had landed, fury leaking from her.

"Stay out of my head," Chris told her calmly. "I didn't ask you to look at _my _future."

There was a tense moment of silence where the two only glared back at one another, each one waiting for the other to break. Piper considered saying something, but she knew it would be better to hold her tongue and wait it out. Finally, as if conceding to the fact that Salome did actually hold all the cards, Chris spat stiffly, "You told him to make me fall in love with a demon. You said it would be the only way to slowly turn me.

"For the record," he added, smiling slightly all of a sudden, "it backfired. I ended up turning her." Again silence reined, but Piper was reeling. He was talking about Bianca. She was a demon, and he'd fallen in love with her and successfully turned her. At least, he'd been successful until Wyatt had turned her back and sent her after Chris.

Apparently satisfied at last, Salome began again, "Second question," she hesitated, and Piper wasn't positive, but if she had to guess, she was pretty sure the first flicker of doubt, of fear, had flared up in Salome Wentworth's eyes. "Tell me this," she breathed, "Why does he kill Kirjack?" What Chris had told them earlier made it sound as if the only relative Salome was ever close with was her demonic father, Kirjack.

And now, in looking into Wyatt's future, had she seen him killing her father?

Piper didn't know what to make of it. Could they somehow use this to their advantage? She glanced over at Chris, hoping to catch his eye and communicate silently with him about what to do next. He wasn't look at her, though.

He was staring straight at Salome when he said, "to punish you. You might have been one of his favorites, or you _will_ be one of his favorites, but above all else, Wyatt likes control. He killed Kirjack to punish you and remind you exactly who's in control."

"I see."

For the umpteenth time, there was silence.

Piper's mind was still running in overdrive. It had been for hours now, as one hit after another came. As if everything with Chris wasn't enough, now even more questions were driving her in circles. What was the real story behind Salome? Would they be able to get the essential information out of her? And how evil was Wyatt in the future? Everything Piper heard made the situation seem worse and worse, and her heart weighed heavier and heavier. If only they could get out of Salome what turns him. . . .

"What's your third question?" Chris questioned impatiently, breaking the silence.

Salome didn't hesitate this time. "Why do I kill it?" she asked. Piper frowned again. She didn't like being out of the loop, but she knew, as much as it irked her, there was no right way to go about joining in. Whatever was going on between Chris and Salome, it might just be the key to everything, and Piper wouldn't ruin it no matter what.

"Because he wants you to," Chris answered simply. "And you do what he wants you to do."

"Why?" Salome demanded. The flicker of fear shown in her eye for a brief instant again, and Piper's curiosity burned even brighter.

"You know why," said Chris. "And you can try and fight it, but there's no point. It happens. The only way it _won't_ happen is if he doesn't turn evil and you two never start working together. Which brings me to you half of the bargain: I answered your three questions; now tell me what I want to know."

Piper's breath caught in her chest. Would it really be this simple?

If they could save Wyatt, then everything would be better, everything would be saved, and she could focus solely on Chris and how he had come to hate his own family. . . .

Salome straightened her back, as is preparing herself. "I can't tell you who turns Wyatt."

Chris immediately threw his hand forward, and Piper was sure the demon would have been thrown back by the force of the spell had Salome not been quick enough to raise her hands and produce a defensive force field. Piper had to resist the urge to blow her up herself. She had lied to them!

"If you think I'm going to let you get away with this," Chris threatened, taking a menacing step towards Salome, "Then you are sorely mistaken, and not nearly as intelligent as Wyatt gave you credit for."

"Calm down," she replied coldly, "You should have known I would be unable to tell you who turns Wyatt. It is not that simple. If it was, you would have come to me before now. If it was easy to see who turns Wyatt, if it was a simple act that any demon could foresee, then you would have long ago discovered it."

Chris threw up a hand at her again, and when she sent a force field to defend herself, he orbed away, appearing a moment later behind her, a knife in his hand and at her throat. Piper's eyes widened. How had he learned that trick?

_Bianca_?

Digging the knife into Salome's neck until a trickle of blood ran free, Chris muttered angrily into her ear, "Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you this instant, you filthy, cheating bitch."

Salome didn't reply at first, but ground her teeth as if to control her anger. "I do _not_ lie, Christopher Halliwell. And I do not go back on a bargain. I told you I would tell you what you want to know more than anything else."

"And now you tell me —" Chris began furiously.

"And now I tell you that I cannot say who will turn Wyatt, but I _can_ tell you want you want to know more than anything else . . . Or were you under the mistaken impression that they were one in the same?"

Piper didn't understand. Salome was making no sense. Chris had come back from the future, risked everything, put himself through unending misery, all to save his brother from being turned evil. And now this demon was claiming there was something else he wanted to know more?

"What the hell are you talking about?" Chris breathed, apparently as confused as Piper.

Salome looked over at Piper, and there was a long pause before she asked calmly, "Is it strange seeing your mother so young?"

"Answer me," Chris pushed the knife deeper into Salome's pale neck, and the demon flinched ever so slightly in response.

"Does it bother you," Salome went on, her eyes straining to look up at Chris, "to spend time with her, knowing of the brutal murder that lies in her future?"

Piper was dumbstruck. What had she just said? The red-haired demon glanced at Piper, her eyes dancing, before she looked back at Chris, saying, "I told you I'd tell you what you want to know more than anything, didn't I? Now, what _do_ you really want to know more than anything?"

Piper couldn't believe this. Suddenly the memory of Wyatt killing Penny flashed into her mind, and Penny's words echoed in her head: _Did you kill Aunt Piper too?_ She had nearly forgotten about that. Sometime in the future, before her boys were even grown up, Piper would be killed by demons.

"Well?" Salome prompted.

"What are you trying to say?" Chris asked.

"Oh, you know exactly what I'm saying. It's a brilliant offer, really. Are you telling me you _don't _want to know who kills your own darling mother?" There was obvious glee in her voice at the brilliance of the bombshell she had dropped. Piper looked over at Chris. She couldn't read the expression on his face; she didn't know what he was feeling beneath the hard mask that contorted his features as he glared at Salome.

"Are you trying to play me again?" Chris asked angrily.

"Do I really look that stupid?" Salome answered. "So? Want to know how to save Mommy's life? Or is there something else you'd rather know? Is there something else that you can honestly say you wish to know more? Because, please, by all means, ask what you will. . . . You'll only have this opportunity once."

Finally, Chris glanced over at Piper. The look on his face took her breath away again. His mouth was a hard line, his forehead creased, but his eyes . . . she had never seen them so anguished before now. As his eyes left hers and traveled across her face, she realized he wasn't looking to her but _at_ her. He wasn't asking her opinion.

Before Piper could open her mouth to say a single word, Chris released Salome from her grasp and shoved him away. She stumbled only slightly, her hand rising to her neck as he glared at her and snarled angrily, "Who kills her?"

Salome gave a horrible grin. "Are you sure that's what you really want to know?"

"Damn it," he spat, "Just tell me who kills my mom!"

Piper wondered how they had gotten to this. It was all happening too quickly. She could barely even grasp either the fact that she was Chris's mother or the fact that she would supposedly die young, and now. . . .

"Very well," Salome smirked. "Have you ever heard of a clan of demons known as Thraxor demons?"

"No," Piper answered, frowning, even as Chris replied, "Yes."

Piper looked over at him. He didn't spare her a glance. "They're demonic purists who believe the underworld is meant to be lead by an elite few, those who have pure demonic blood and _only_ demonic blood," he said. She didn't know if he was explaining this to her or proving something to Salome. "They've a reputation for attempting to kill and enslave lesser demons, and are therefore hated by most all of the underworld and forced to live on the fringe."

"That's right," Salome nodded her head.

"One of them kills her?" Chris breathed. Piper was suddenly aware of how sweaty her palms were. This was too surreal. She gripped Wyatt tightly, so tightly that he squirmed in her arms.

"Yes," she answered, her eyes twinkling, "One by the name of Amaymon."

_Amaymon._ The name echoed in Piper's head. _Amaymon._ She would be killed by a demon named Amaymon. How was she supposed to react to that?

"How?" Chris immediately asked. "How will he kill her?"

"Sorry," she shook her head, grinning, "That's all you get. Only _who_ kills her. The rest is up to you. Good luck." And then, before either of them could stop her, Salome Wentworth shimmered away.

For a minute neither Chris nor Piper moved. After a few long, drawn-out moments, Chris looked over at her. "Let's get back to the manor," he told her gruffly, not meeting her gaze. "Salome will be back only after we've left. We won't be able to get any more out of her."

"Chris," Piper began timidly, "I don't know what to say, but I —"

"We can talk later, Piper," he cut in. She felt a physical ache. Was it so terrible to want to be called Mom? Perhaps just once? She could do nothing about it, though, and a moment later, he put his hand on her shoulder and orbed them away.

* * *

Leo knew he ought to orb right back down to the girls and tell them what he had discovered. The Elders hadn't had much to say; only that Salome Wentworth was one who could hold all the information they needed, but one out of whom it was extremely difficult to get anything.

They said she was known for offering deals in exchange for information, but that in making a deal, one must be extremely cautious. Leo had listened intently, and he knew he should tell the girls everything. Maybe they could make some sort of deal with Salome? Perhaps Chris would know how to properly deal with her?

Chris.

And there was the reason why, instead of orbing back down to the girls, he orbed to the windy top of the Golden Gate Bridge. He had come here often before he'd fallen in love with Piper, before the Charmed Ones had finally received their powers and he'd had to get close to them. After all, he'd been a whitelighter for years, and this really was the perfect place to think.

It was strange to think that he had lived for so long, been a whitelighter for so many years, before the Charmed Ones had become a part of his life. No, before they had become his _entire_ life. It seemed impossible that he had existed so long without them. He could still remember observing them as children. He would have never guessed, all those years ago, as he watched Piper playing, going to school dances, fighting with Prue and Phoebe, that he would one day marry her.

And so much had changed since he _had_ married Piper. He'd had a son, a beautiful, amazing baby son. Then his whole world had been turned upside down when a mysterious twenty-two-year-old from the future had come to them. And now, after everything that had happened in the last year, after the trust, the mistrust, the anger, the fear, the forgiveness, the hatred, he's finally learned that the mysterious twenty-two-year-old is his _other_ son.

His other son, a boy who absolutely despises him, who looks at him with eyes brimming in disgust, a boy who treats him like a nonperson, wanting nothing to do with him. And the more Leo thinks about it, the more it makes sense. Why would Chris want anything to do with him? He had treated him terribly the entire time he'd known him.

And what did he even know about Chris? He knew that he was neurotic, demon-obsessed, extremely manipulative and an avid liar. He was a whitelighter and a witch; he'd fallen in love with a demon. He was determined and persistent; he was demanding and unpleasant. Was that it? In a year's time, was that all he had managed to learn?

No, wait, there was more. At one point, when he and Chris had been on good terms, Chris had let something slip: he'd mentioned that he had skateboarded as a kid, that he'd been obsessed with it. And once — Leo clung to the memory — once, when Piper had made oatmeal raisin cookies, Chris had said that he liked chocolate chip better, the way his mom used make them when he was little.

By his mother, he had meant Piper. He loved Piper's chocolate chip cookies. Leo loved them too. So was that it? Was that the only thing Leo and Chris had in common: their mutual love of Piper Halliwell's chocolate chip cookies?

When was his birthday? What was his favorite holiday? What was his favorite subject in school? When was his first kiss? What did he like to do in his spare time? Leo knew nothing, _nothing_, about his own child.

To make matters worse, his future self apparently didn't know anything either. No matter how Leo tried to stop it, the memory of the scene between his future self and Piper's future self was continuingly playing on a reel in his head. How could he treat his own son like that? How could he ever become _that_ dad?

And most importantly of all, how could he fix it?

Not to mention that the son he did know, his little blonde baby, was going to become the greatest force of evil the world has ever known, was going to kill his own family. How was he supposed to deal with that? The urge to fix it, just fix it, surged in him with every thud of his heart, but somehow the thought of going back to the manor, of facing the sisters, of facing Chris. . . .

How _could_ he fix it?

How was it even broken in the first place?

Leo let his head tilt up and his eyes fall closed. He wished _he_ could go back in time and change things. He wished he could start over and trust Chris from the very beginning. He wished he could keep everything from ever getting this bad.

He opened his eyes.

He didn't know how, but it had come to him, and he was positive that he'd known it all along. He only had one option available to him now: he had to speak with Chris. He had to find out how he had become a horrible father, he had to find out how he could make up for it, and he had to find out how he could help.

Steeling himself, Leo orbed back to the manor.

Phoebe and Paige were in the attic, and when Leo orbed in, they both looked over at him eagerly, their faces flickering with disappointment when he fully materialized. "We thought you were Chris and Piper," Phoebe explained.

"What do you mean?" he immediately asked. "Where are Chris and Piper?"

"They went off with Salome after she agreed to tell them what she discovered about Wyatt. They took Wyatt with them. I guess Piper is going to let Salome read his future," Paige said. She frowned. "Read his future?" she repeated thoughtfully. "Somehow that doesn't sound right. I should have see, huh?"

"It doesn't matter," Phoebe dismissed. "The point is that they've been gone for way too long."

"How long has she been gone?" Leo frowned.

"Not _that_ long," Paige replied, shooting Phoebe a look. "Our Phoebe here, however, is a little paranoid and started thinking they'd been gone too long when they'd been gone for five minutes."

"Can you blame me?" said Phoebe exasperated. "The situation isn't exactly ideal or anything." She sighed, running a hand over her hair. "I still can't believe all this is happening."

"As soon as we deal with Salome," Paige assured her, "We'll be able to sit down and talk with Chris."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Leo argued. "He doesn't seem very receptive to us."

"We still need to talk to him," Paige said. "_I_ have to talk to him. I have to find out how that party I saw happens." She looked away from them.

"I know," Leo murmured. "I have to talk to him, too." He gazed out the window, his thoughts swirling. He knew he had to talk to Chris. There was no way to avoid it. But it certainly wouldn't be easy, not least of all because Chris _hated_ him.

"Oh, honey," Phoebe said to Leo, walking towards him and reaching out a hand to reassuringly squeeze his arm. "We're going to figure this out. You won't become the father we saw. You're too good for that — too good of a man; too good of a husband."

Leo was about to answer her, but his reply died in his throat as a swirl of orbs brought Chris and Piper, clutching Wyatt, into the attic. "Oh, I'm so glad you're back!" Phoebe exclaimed, letting out a sigh. "How'd it go?"

"What did Salome say?" Paige added. "What happened?"

"I haven't changed the future yet," Chris answered sourly. "She still saw him as evil." He wasn't looking at any of them, but instead staring out the window, his face a mask. He finally turned back to the sisters, telling them tiredly, "It looks like you all will be stuck with me for a while. Do you mind?"

"Do we mind?" repeated Phoebe disbelievingly, "We wouldn't have it any other way!" Chris gave her a small smile. Leo wanted to say something, but his throat seemed to close before he could even open his mouth.

"So did you kill Salome?" Paige prodded.

"Are you kidding?" Chris raised his eyebrows. "You don't kill Salome. You _can't._"

"Is she invincible?" Paige frowned.

"No, not technically," Chris shook his head, "But that doesn't mean it's possible to kill her. She wouldn't let you — she'd see it coming, and she'd thwart you. Believe me, people have tried. It's useless. Better to have her as an ally."

"We're not regularly the type to have demonic allies," Paige told him.

"Well, you should be," Chris snapped. "As good witches, all three of you," he glanced at Phoebe and Piper, "should use whatever resources you have. Sometimes the best resources are demons."

No one said anything. Before today, someone would have snapped back at him. Perhaps Leo himself would have intervened. But now, everything was different. In one day, the entire dynamics had changed.

"Look," said Chris, breaking the telling silence, "Forget Salome. We got what we need out of her. She's not going to harm us, and it isn't worth the trouble to kill her. What we should focus on is the Thraxor demon Amaymon. Leo," Chris turned to him. Leo froze. "What do you know about the demon Amaymon? Anything?"

The way Chris was looking at him, the tone of his voice, the words he spoke — it was as if absolutely nothing had happened. It was as if they were back to square one, when there was no animosity between them, but no affection either. They were just Leo the Elder and Chris the Whitelighter, both working on separate tracks to take care of the Charmed Ones. "Leo?" Chris added impatiently.

"Ah," Leo rubbed his forehead, "I would have to check with the Elders. The name doesn't ring a bell, though." He wished he could have said something different, something better. He wished he could have been useful. He wished he could have kept Chris in conversation, instead of watching his son turn away from him and instead to Paige, standing behind the book.

"Look up Thraxor demons," he instructed. "Salome told us Amaymon was one of them." Paige nodded, already flipping through the book.

"Thraxor demons?" Leo repeated. Why were they getting involved with Thraxor demons? They were not an easily dealt with clan of demons. But . . . were they the ones to turn Wyatt?

"Yes, Thraxor demons," confirmed Chris.

"Do you think they might be the ones to get Wyatt?" Phoebe asked. "Did Salome tell you that?"

"No, no," Chris shook his head, slightly annoyed. "Salome couldn't tell us who turns Wyatt. No future teller can, believe me; I've tried just about everyone."

"Then why am I looking up Thraxor demons?" Paige asked, "Which, by the way, I've never even heard of before now."

"Because they're going to kill me," Piper answered. Leo felt the ground shift beneath him. _What had she just said?_ Phoebe and Paige both froze as well. "We made a deal with Salome," Piper explained hastily, shifting Wyatt where he sat on her hip, "Chris told her a few things about the future that she couldn't see, and in exchange, she told Chris what he wanted to know most of all. . . ."

"Who kills Piper?" Phoebe asked hesitantly, disbelievingly. Piper nodded.

"Look, we got we needed to know," Chris began, his voice all business. "Sometime in the future, Piper will be killed by the Thraxor demon Amaymon. It'd be best to hedge our bets and kill the demon now — kill the entire clan, even. So, Paige, what have you found?" Chris didn't look directly at Piper or Leo, focusing intently on Paige only.

"Ah, it, ah," Paige flipped a few more pages in the book, before, "Here we go. It's a pretty small entry, but it says, 'Thraxor demons, while differing in powers and origins, are a clan of demons who believe themselves to be superior to all others. They collectively use their magic to purge the demonic community of those they believe unworthy of the demonic title, and they are therefore hated by the majority of the underworld.'

"Well," Paige looked up at them, "They sound like a delightful bunch, now don't they?"

"Is that all it says?" Leo asked impatiently.

Paige shook her head, reading on, "'Still, they include some of the most powerful demons in the underworld, many of whom were formally in the service of the Source and who, for various reasons, became renegades and decided, for their protection, to join the Thraxor demons.'"

"Wait, wait, wait," Phoebe interrupted the moment Paige paused, "So these demons aren't actually a particular race? It's like a fancy, exclusive club or something?"

"Looks like it," Paige nodded.

"Then how are we supposed to find out how to defeat Amaymon?" Piper asked hesitantly, glancing between her sisters. Chris turned to Leo again, raising his eyebrows.

Leo nodded quickly. "I'll go check with the other Elders," he said. He couldn't believe this — it was one hit after another. Wasn't it enough to deal with saving his sons? Now he had to worry about what would happen to his wife? "I'll be back as soon as I can."

The last thing he saw as he orbed away was Chris turning his back on him.

**To Be Continued . . .**

A/N: Did you miss the memories? (or future scenes, as I suppose a more appropriate title would be?) I missed writing them. THey're the most fun. There will be more in the future, but probably not for a few more chapters. Salome will be back, but again, not for a few more chapters. As for Chris's broken relationship with every member of the family -- he'll have his first deep conversation in the upcoming chapter, so stay tuned . . . ;)

And please review!


	8. Chapter 8

_A/N: Once again after a super long wait, I give you another chapter! This one has no Salome and no memories, but it has a lot of good thinking, and hopefully will reveal a great deal! Let me again remind everyone that this story is completely AU after "Prince Charming." Some people have pointed out in reviews that the children of the Charmed Ones to which I've alluded thus far don't match up with the children listed in the show. (In the show, Paige has twin daughters and a son. In this story, she has two daughters many years apart). I'm aware they don't match up; that is purposeful. I imagine that things would have turned out differently for all of the Charmed Ones had Chris never come back in time, including the children they would have. I'm sorry if this is confusing. I hope you enjoy the fic nonetheless! And now, the usual disclaimer: I write purely for entertainment, I own no actual rights to the show Charmed or its characters, and no infringement is intended. Enjoy!  
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* * *

_When Leo had returned, it hadn't been with any useful information. The Elders had never heard of the particular demon they were after, but they urged the Charmed Ones to seek him out and destroy him. "Of course they do," Piper had snapped bitterly, "They're pretty freaked now that they're facing the prospect of losing their precious Charmed Ones." Leo had shaken his head and opened his mouth to protest, but he had stopped himself.

If Paige wasn't mistaken, it was because he had caught site of Chris and the expression on his face: the soft, appreciative smile the angry young man gave when Piper insulted the Elders. _Poor Leo._

Paige shifted where she lay on her bed. The rest of the evening hadn't gone that well either. Chris had decided that he better do some research in the Underworld, and he had orbed away before any of them could stop him. Phoebe had proceeded to read the _Book_ from cover to cover, determined to discover any inkling concerning Amaymon that the _Book_ might contain. Piper had disappeared to play with Wyatt, and Paige had been left with nothing to do.

It was then that, conveniences of conveniences, Richard had shown up. Why hadn't he heard from her in a while? Was everything okay? Did she need help? Paige had tiredly begun giving him answers, and the more she had spoken, the more animated she had become. It was good to get it all out.

But then it had occurred to her like a punch to the gut: was Richard the man she would one day divorce to the pain and anger of her daughter? She had stopped mid-sentence and stared at him, and his concern had quickly grown.

"I just need to be alone," she'd finally told him, and it had only taken ten or so minutes to shoo him out. Piper had made dinner for everyone, and while Leo joined them, Chris did not. It was a silent dinner.

Less than an hour later, stewing in anxiety, Paige fell asleep. It was late when she finally hit the pillow, but she didn't slept very much: it was barely past six in the morning when she woke up. She hadn't gotten out of bed yet, but lay there still, staring up at the ceiling.

All the events from the day before were playing through her mind. All the memories seemed to be one re-run in her head, and to her despair, the more she clutched at them, the more the details seemed to fade, like water trickling from her hand.

She could remember some things, though. She had at least two daughters, Penny and Paige. They would both be killed by Wyatt. Her precious baby nephew would kill her daughters. How exactly was she supposed to deal with that?

And it had just occurred to her that there was no way Richard could be the father. Because whoever that man was, whoever her future divorced husband and father of her murdered daughters would be, he was a mortal. That's why Wyatt had killed him; at least, that's what Wyatt had told Penny. Damn. It was too much to grasp at once.

Finally acknowledging that she wasn't going to get any more sleep, Paige kicked off the covers and stumbled from bed. Wandering downstairs in her dancing pie pajamas, she wasn't surprised to find Phoebe curled up in a ball on the living room couch downing a mug of coffee.

"Did you get any sleep at all last night?" asked Paige, falling into the seat beside her.

"Not a wink," Phoebe sighed. "I spent the whole night looking for information on Amaymon."

"And what did you find?" Paige yawned.

"Nothing," Phoebe grunted bitterly, "Absolutely nothing. It was a complete waste of time. Whoever this demon is, he obviously isn't someone important yet."

"Have you talked to Piper at all?"

"I think she clocked out around three or four in the morning," Phoebe answered. "She's still asleep, as far as I know. I was the one that made the coffee. It's caffeinated. You're welcome to it." She tried and failed to stifle a yawn before seemingly inhaling another mouthful of coffee.

"Thanks, sis, and maybe while I go get myself some coffee you should consider go getting some sleep," Paige suggested, reluctantly standing up and starting towards the kitchen.

Phoebe shook her head. "No point," she argued. "I can't sleep with this much on my mind. It's too much. I've got to find away to make everything better. There has to be a way. There's always a way."

"And what exactly," Paige began, "are you trying to make better? Because if I remember correctly, there's a pretty long list right now. . . ."

"Don't I know it," Phoebe muttered. Paige only shook her head sadly as she disappeared into the kitchen to get herself a cup of coffee. They were facing a rather hefty list at this point. Wyatt turns horribly evil in the future, and they need to stop that. Piper is murdered by a demon in the future, and they need to stop that. Chris is Leo and Piper's son but he absolutely despises the entire family, and they need to learn why and then stop _that_ from happening.

Not to mention the fact that Salome was thrown in the mix somehow, and that apparently Paige was going to become a chain-smoking divorcee whose kid hates her. At least the coffee Phoebe had made tasted good. Paige sighed to herself as she took another sip and wandered back into the living room.

Phoebe really did look terrible. "Honey, you have _got_ to sleep. You can't help us deal with everything when you're exhausted," Paige told her gently.

Phoebe groaned, falling back onto the cushions wearily as she replied, "I know, I know, but I can't help myself. I can't lose Piper. I just _can't._"

"We are not going to lose her, Phoebe," assured Paige, "You know that. Think about it: knowing who's going to kill her — that's more than we usually have to go on! We're going to save her. Chris is going to help. For all his flaws, you've got to admit the boy is good at what he does. He knows his demons."

"I know that he knows his demons," said Phoebe, rubbing at her temples, "The problem is that it's _all _I know about him. God, I feel like the world's worse aunt! He's our nephew, and he hates us. Family is the most important thing, Paige; how could any of us have forgotten that long enough to neglect Chris to the point that he'd hate us?"

"I don't know," Paige answered sadly. Hadn't they already had this conversation yesterday? Were they just going in circles now?

"And I'm worried about him now, too," Phoebe carried on. "He's been gone all night."

"I'm sure he's fine, Phoebes; he can hold his own."

"I know, but. . . ." Phoebe gave yet another sigh.

"But nothing," Paige insisted, "He's been gone for longer than this before and you never worried over it. He'll be back soon, I'm sure, and hopefully he'll have good news for us."

"I've never worried about it before because before he wasn't my nephew," Phoebe replied matter-of-factly.

"Actually, he's been your nephew the whole time; you just didn't know it."

"You know what I meant," Phoebe gave her a half-hearted glare.

"I did, but you better be careful," Paige warned, "You don't want to start treating Chris drastically different just because you found out he's your nephew. I'll doubt he'll appreciate that. I mean, I'm sure he wants you to treat him well because he deserves it, and because you like him and everything, not just because you feel obligated to."

"I do like him!" Phoebe said, sitting up. "And I do think he deserves it!"

"I'm not saying you don't!" Paige defended. "Hell, I don't even know what I _am_ saying." Phoebe sunk back onto the couch with yet another almighty sigh as Paige added thoughtfully, "I just feel like I kind of know what Chris is going through right now."

Phoebe tilted her head at Paige in question. "What do you mean?"

Paige shifted where she sat. "It's just . . . when I first found out you and Piper were my sisters — it was hard. I felt like the only reason you wanted anything to do with me was because you needed my powers and because, well, because you thought you _had_ to want to spend time with me."

"Oh, sweetie, you know that's not true, don't you?" Phoebe sat up, looking over at her sister with eyes brimming in concern and sincerity.

Paige gave her a soft smile. "I know it's not any more, but don't you think that those first few weeks, you didn't really know how you felt about me? And all you really did know was that I was your sister and that meant you were supposed to like me? I mean, it's not like I hold it against you — I kind of felt the same way. We didn't even know each other! But . . . it was hard, you know?"

Phoebe nodded slowly, "I get what you're saying. But Chris is different."

"Yeah," Paige sighed. "I know. . . ."

"In fact," Phoebe continued rather distressed, "it's worse with Chris, because it could have been different. He's been staying with us for months, and all this time we could have gotten to know him and love him without ever knowing who he really is, but we didn't. . . .

"I know," repeated Paige. She couldn't think of anything else to say.

Phoebe let her eyes flicker shut. "Maybe I do just need some sleep," she murmured. Her eyes slid open again a moment later. "I hate my damned inability to sleep when anxious," she mumbled tiredly.

Paige chuckled softly, saying sympathetically, "Sorry, honey. . ." Phoebe's eyes dropped closed again.

"I can't believe _all_ this time we had no idea . . . and here I called myself an empath. . . ."

Taking in the dark bags on her sister's face and the weary mutterings she issued, Paige suddenly had an idea. "Hey, how about I make you a Resting Potion?" Phoebe's eyes popped up and looked over at her tiredly. "I was reading up on one that only puts you to sleep for a few hours but gives you the benefit of a full night's sleep. And while you're sleeping, I can work on our unending list of problems. Capice?"

"I guess," Phoebe gave her a small smile. "It's not like there's anything else I can do at this point."

"Now that's the spirit!" Paige teased, patting her sister on the leg as she stood and started towards the kitchen. Making a potion for Phoebe was a good idea; it would give Paige something to do with her hands, and hopefully, it would also give her something to do with her mind instead of slowly torturing herself with anxious thoughts.

A few minutes later, Paige had poured herself another cup of coffee, started boiling some water for the potion and was working on measuring out the right ingredients to add to the pan when a swirl of orbs appeared and Chris came to stand in front of her.

"Hey, you," she greeted. He didn't look like anything bad had happened, which she supposed she should take as a good sign.

"Hey," he muttered. "What are you working on?" He didn't look at her as he spoke, but instead started to seek out something to eat, and a moment later he settled down at the table with a banana.

"A potion to help Phoebe sleep," Paige answered. "It's actually a pretty cool one. I've been reading up on a lot of potions lately, and I've wanted to try this one out."

"I think Phoebe is actually already out cold," Chris informed her. Paige looked over at him in surprise. "I orbed into the living room first and she seemed pretty asleep to me, anyway," he clarified. Paige nodded.

"I guess that means I should stop, huh?"

"You can keep going if you want. You never know when you'll need a good potion," Chris answered. "Besides, we're going to be pulling all-nighters if we want to catch Amaymon, so we could use the Rapid Restorative Potion."

Paige gave him a puzzled smile. "How did you know that was what I was making?"

Chris crinkled his brow at her. "I assumed," he shrugged his shoulders. "It's a favorite of yours."

"In the future, you mean?" Paige prompted. She was suddenly bursting with questions. Would she be able to get a few out of him before he clamped up? "And if so, does that mean I get good at making them, because the instructions actually look really complicated and —"

"Trust me," he interrupted, even giving a half smile, "You get good at making at them. I should know. I managed to convince you to make it for me now and then when I needed to pull an all-nighter for school." He finished off his banana and stood.

Paige was rooted to the spot. He'd actually talked about the future. Granted, it wasn't much, but it was something, wasn't it? And it was a good something! It made her sound like an aunt, a good aunt that helped her nephew with school (even if it did have a magical touch in it; she was a witch, after all).

"Wait, Chris," Paige called out suddenly when he made to leave the room. He stopped and looked back at her with raised eyebrows. "I just — I was wondering if maybe I could ask you something." Chris let out a hesitant sigh, nearly grimacing at her words. Hastily, she went on, "I know you don't like to talk about the future and stuff, but what I saw of my daughter and how much she hated me — it's just been killing me and I . . . I just was hoping you could maybe tell me about . . . all of that, or something."

She wasn't sure how much sense she had just made, considering she had said it all in a few rambling breaths, but it was the best she could do. Chris took in a deep breath and let it out slowly in a small gush of air. "I really can't talk about the future, Paige. You know that. It's not that I don't _like_ to talk about the future. It's that I _can't._"

"Okay," Paige nodded, giving a forced smile. Chris didn't seem to care whether it was forced or not.

"I'm going to check a few things in the _Book_," he told her.

"Wait!" she shouted again a moment before he could leave.

At least this time he looked a little amused. "Yes?"

"Were you able to find anything last night? About Amaymon, I mean?"

Slowly, his mouth a thin line, Chris shook his head. "It's like the guy doesn't even exist," he said, the frustration clear in his voice, and she couldn't help but think it sounded like Classic Chris. The boy was always frustrated about something.

"Maybe he doesn't yet?" Paige shrugged her shoulders.

"No, that doesn't make any sense. When he kills —," he changed direction suddenly, his face tightening ever-so-slightly, "He'd be too young if he doesn't exist at this point. He has to exist. We just need to find him."

"Right," Paige agreed. Before he could even turn to go this time, she continued, "Chris, I know you only came back to stop Wyatt from turning evil. But now you're trying to save your mom, too. And there's nothing wrong with that! You came back to make the future better. Maybe . . . maybe you should try making it better in more ways than one."

"I am trying to make it better in more ways than one," Chris replied, "You just said so yourself: I'm trying to save Wyatt and my mom."

"Yeah, ah, I was talking more about saving you." There was an awkward silence before she added, "And, perhaps, saving me — and my future relationships — too?" She tilted one shoulder up, giving him a look that Phoebe had dubbed The Patented Paige-"It might be icky, but for me, why not?"-Look.

"Paige. . . ." Chris shook his head.

"I was just — I was just telling Phoebe earlier," Paige cut him off before he could shoot her down again, "I was saying that what you're going through is kind of like what I went through when I first met Piper and Paige and learned who they really were. I mean, obviously it's not the same thing, because you already knew all of us, and you knew we were your family and I really only suspected," she rambled on.

"But it was hard trying to deal with suddenly being family with someone completely out of the blue. I guess . . . I guess I'm trying to say that I don't want you to start calling me Aunt Paige and I don't want a hug and I'm not going to force anything down your throat, but I just . . . I just want you to know that you can talk to me. And not just about the future stuff. But you can talk to me about that, too, if, you know, you feel like it."

She wasn't sure what point she had just made. She wanted him to tell her about her daughter, but she wanted him to tell her more than that — she wanted him to feel he could confide in her. It was the least she could do.

"Okay," Chris nodded, "Thanks." After another strained moment of silence, he turned to leave, and he was halfway out the door when he stopped, this time completely on his own. He turned and looked at her, letting out another huff of air.

"Penny didn't hate you," he said pointblank.

Paige didn't know what to say, and thankfully, he took her silence to mean she wanted him to continue. "She was just . . . it was hard, being the kid of a Charmed One. She had all these powers swirling around in her, and it was hard to get a handle on them. At first she went to Magic School, but there it was like she was some kind of celebrity, but not in a good way — kids always pointing and staring and whispering. So then she went to regular school, but its not easy being a teenage witch and having to hide your powers."

"You sound like you speak from experience," Paige said, cracking a slight smile. He snorted softly.

"Yeah, it was pretty much the exact same story for me." He glanced away from her, as if he was recalling something, and it hit her again how strange it was to be having this conversation with him.

"But . . . there had to be more to it, right?" Paige prompted him softly. He looked back at her and seemed to carefully consider what he said next.

"You were . . . you were a good mom," he assured, "But you were always . . . busy, I guess the word would be. You were really busy. You were like a super witch. And sometimes you . . . sometimes it seemed like you didn't have anytime for anything other than being a super witch."

"Is that why my husband and I got divorced?" Paige breathed.

Chris shrugged. "I don't know. I was just a kid. But if I had to guess . . . yeah, I think so."

Paige could only nod in understanding. What else could she say? In a horrible way, it did make sense. Whenever she got invested in magic, she really got invested in it. She got obsessed with it. And then of course she would grow tired, and she would want a regular life, and she would try and back off a bit and gain some semblances of normality . . . but she always ended up back in a hurricane of magic. Was that bad?

Apparently it was.

"Look, it doesn't matter," Chris dismissed, breaking the silence. "But . . . if it makes a better future, then, okay." He seemed to be speaking as much to himself as he was to her. He turned his back on her to leave for the fourth or fifth time — she'd lost count at this point.

"Thanks," she called out to him. He paused. "For, you know, telling me despite . . . you know."

"You're the easiest," he murmured. Then he disappeared out of the kitchen. She wasn't sure what that meant, but hopefully it was good. She turned back to her half-done potion. Should she go on and finish it? Would it be helpful to have around, as he said? Was Phoebe really already asleep? If so, weren't there more important things to do?

"And I'm back at the big bad list of things to do," Paige muttered to herself. Pouring herself a third cup of coffee, she shook her head and began the soft, encouraging mantra, not so sure she believed it at this point, "I love being a witch, I love being a witch, I love being a witch. . . ."

* * *

She felt the urge to cry bubbling up in her chest, shaking at her throat, scratching at her insides. It was always cathartic to cry. But sometimes, a rare few times, all it did was leave her feeling useless, with a pounding head and dry eyes to boot.

She didn't want to cry. Then again, she also didn't want to be that woman who lay in bed in the dark, staring up at her ceiling and wishing she could sink into the mattress and disappear, yet here she was, doing just that.

Unexpectedly, vividly, she recalled her high school reunion. She had been so nervous, but after the whole debacle was over — both the reunion and the demonic possession — she had gone to bed happy, realizing how far she had come since high school. Everything was great with her sisters, she had an amazing fiancé, and the future was looking bright.

What exactly did Piper Halliwell have now?

Her baby son would grow to be a murdering force of evil. Her whitelighter was her other son, a jaded boy who couldn't even stomach calling her "mom." And Leo, her husband, the man she believed to be her one true love, her angel — quite literally —, was a stranger to her. She had lost him in more ways than one.

She'd tried so hard to be strong since he'd gone to be an Elder. She had made herself keep fighting for her sisters and keep living for Wyatt. She had taken on the stress and the weariness and Leo's constant presence — so close, yet so far — with her head held high. She hadn't moped; she hadn't lain in bed for days crying.

But if she was honest, if she was truly, truly honest with herself, the ache in her heart was still always there at every moment, even when she was standing tall and acting as the matriarch of her family. She longed for the days when a simple hug from Leo was norm, when she didn't need to get an extra blanket to sleep under when it was particularly chilly, because she could just roll over and snuggle with her husband.

Her heart clenched when she remembered a rainy Sunday when they'd stayed curled up in bed all day, talking about children and dreams for someday. Her throat went dry when she remembered his kisses: soft and sweet pecks on her check; chaste and warm butterfly kisses on her lips; hot and wet kisses trailing her neck and leaving her breathless.

She missed him more than she'd ever missed another human being, and she couldn't even share that pain with the world, because she was supposed to be strong, she was supposed to be above it all, the unwavering mother and older sister. And now, when her whole world was spiraling out of control, he was standing right beside her but was no where near her.

She couldn't look to him for emotional support, for advice or comfort. They were both facing a future son who hated them, who'd been hurt and betrayed by them, yet they couldn't face it together; there was a wall between them, invisible but impenetrable. And the longer they were on opposite sides of it, the greater the distance between them was, to the point where Leo Wyatt was becoming a different man.

Piper blinked, and her eyes became watery. _No._ She would not allow this. Steeling herself, she slipped out of bed. She had taken a moment to wallow. But the day was beginning, and she knew it would be a long day. It was time to face the music. Slowly, mechanically, Piper brushed her teeth and got dressed, made the bed and put on make-up.

She would check the book first, before she even went downstairs for breakfast. She would re-read the passage on Thraxor demons. She would look up some potions to prepare and have at the ready for the coming days.

"I think we should have a meeting," Chris declared. Piper whirled around in surprise. She'd just finished putting her hair into a ponytail and was about to go to the attic, when suddenly he was standing there leaning up against the door frame.

"What?" she asked, too startled to really process what he had said.

"A meeting," he repeated. "I'm your whitelighter, after all, and I think the Charmed Ones and their whitelighter need to have a meeting. We have things to discuss. We've got to get it all in order, prioritize. I say we have a meeting."

"Okay," Piper said slowly, "Right now?"

"Hey, no time like the present, right? Phoebe's sleeping, but we can wake her. This is more important. Paige made a potion to help Phoebe catch up on sleep anyway, so she can take that after we're done." He said this all in a business-like tone, and it was all so very Chris Perry that it nearly broke her heart. Now that the truth was out, he didn't have to be Chris Perry; he could be Chris _Halliwell_.

Was that really so hard?

"Piper?" Chris raised his eyebrows at her.

"Yes? Yes! That sounds good!" she waved her hand in the air like an idiot and had to fight down a blush. _Great_, she thought mutinously, _now I'm blushing in front of my aloof son. Just great._

"Okay, then, I'm going to go wake Phoebe. Come down to the kitchen as soon as you can, alright?"

"Alright," Piper agreed. "I'll just call Leo and —"

"There's no need to call Leo," Chris cut in sharply.

"I'm sure he'd want to help," Piper began, frowning slightly.

"And I'm sure the other Elders need him. We don't." Piper was at a loss for words, and before she could think to even move, Chris had orbed downstairs. What was she supposed to do? Call Leo and further separate herself from Chris? Or do as her son wished and leave Leo out of the equation?

She thought about the little five-year-old boy with his teary eyes and dripping nose, orbing away at the sight of Leo. She remembered seeing him clutch her future self, calling her Mommy and telling her he loved her.

She wouldn't call Leo.

Honestly, it would make it easier for herself, too. Sighing and once more gathering her strength, Piper went down the stairs after her son. When she entered the kitchen, Phoebe and Paige were already both sitting at the table while Chris stood a few feet away, patiently awaiting her arrival.

"Alright-y then," Paige said, "Let's get this meeting to order!"

"Morning, sweetie," Phoebe greeted softly, and Piper smiled in return as she slipped into a seat.

"So, I think we should split forces," Chris began, jumping right in. "Our primary concerns at this point are finding Amaymon and wiping him out and finding the demon that turns Wyatt and wiping him out. The sooner we do this, the sooner we'll rest easy. Here's what we know so far —"

"Wait," Phoebe interrupted, "Shouldn't we wait for Leo to get here?"

"Why?" Chris asked, "He wasn't invited. If he wants to help later, we'll update him then," he dismissed. "Anyway, what we know so far is that Amaymon is a Thraxor demon. There is nothing on him in the book and none of my underworld contacts know anything about him. The Elders haven't even heard of him."

"So where does that leave us?" Paige asked.

"I need to do some scourging. I might have talked to all of my best contacts, but I still have some resources I can check up on. I think Piper should come with me, because her powers will be the most useful if we get in a tight spot."

"What if he kills her, though?" Phoebe asked, alarmed.

"Obviously he won't, considering he doesn't kill her until I'm born," Chris answered, not batting an eyelash as he continued, "While Piper and I do that, I think Phoebe and Paige should continue seeking out the demon that could be after Wyatt. We need to start thinking unconventionally. All the usual suspects have been eliminated. It's not anything simple, not one single demon, or Salome and the countless other future-tellers I've consulted would have been able to see it clearly."

"We can brainstorm," Paige nodded her head. "I'm good at brainstorming."

"I still think we should ask Leo for help," Phoebe insisted. "He knows more about demons than any of us. Besides, Wyatt is his son; he'll want to help. He should help."

Chris sighed, "Look, Phoebe, Leo is an _Elder_; he doesn't have time to deal with every little problem we have now. You're too dependent on him as is. You have to learn to function without him. When we need him, really need him, you can call for him. Until then, try and manage on your own, alright?"

"Chris, come on!" protested Phoebe. "I know you don't see eye to eye with Leo and I know you have some future issues with him, but he is a good man, and he is not the man you know as a father. And if you let him help, if you open up to him, then he will never become that man! And —"

"This is not about me," Chris interrupted, gritting his teeth.

"Exactly," Piper said suddenly, and both Chris and Phoebe looked over at her. "This is about Wyatt. We should call Leo. He can help and he will help. It's what's best."

"Piper," Chris began angrily.

"No, this is not your call. It has nothing to do with you. We're all for saving Wyatt, isn't that what you said?"

"Yes, but —"

"And if you and I are going to be focusing elsewhere, down in the underworld for who knows how long, then Phoebe and Paige can use all the help they can get. We call Leo. End of story." She wasn't sure why she had insisted upon this, but all of the sudden it had seemed the most obvious thing in the world to do.

It was what she would have done twenty-four hours ago. It was what she would have done if she hadn't known Chris was her son. It was what she would have done as the head of this family. She was still the head of the family, regardless to Chris's status within it. She couldn't let her desperation to be close to him blind her to what the family needed. It was time to get her backbone back.

"Okay," Chris muttered. "Call him."

Piper almost gaped. He hadn't put up any protest at all? And suddenly, despite herself, a little bit of warmth burst to life inside her. Perhaps he had appreciated her authority; perhaps in overruling his decision she had acted as a mother should. It didn't seem like something for which Chris Perry would stand, but Chris Halliwell on the other hand. . . .

Phoebe glanced at Paige, who shrugged, then at Piper, who nodded. She called out for Leo, and he appeared an instant later. "Hey," he greeted quietly, his eyes darting to everyone in the room, lingering just the tiniest bit longer on Chris.

"Hey, Leo, ready to save your son?" Phoebe smiled.

Leo looked over at Chris again. "She means Wyatt," Chris told him dryly. Leo looked away quickly, and Piper's heart squeezed in sympathy for him. She knew how he felt. Phoebe explained briefly what they would be doing, and the words were barely out of her mouth before Leo put in his two cents.

"Maybe I should go with Chris and Piper," he suggested. "I think I could be more help to them. Until we know what demon to go after, there's not much I can do for Wyatt."

"You can help figure out what demon to go after," Chris told him stiffly.

"Chris," Leo said, almost as if it were a plea.

"We're going into the underworld, Leo," Chris replied, completely ignoring the plea, "We can't take a whole caravan of people. Piper and I will be fine on our own. I can orb and she can blow things up. We both know the underworld. You stay and help Phoebe and Paige."

"Chris, I know you don't want to work with me, but this is for the best," Leo declared bravely. Piper looked over at Chris, expecting to see him deflate the way he had when she had asserted herself. Perhaps if she and Leo acted as parents then Chris would start treating them as such and it would all work out —

To her disappointment, Chris was staring rather mutinously at Leo and looked ready to lash out at the older man. "I disagree," Chris said, his expression challenging Leo to argue with him. Before Leo could take the challenge, Piper intervened.

"Leo, I think he's right. Why don't you help Phoebe and Paige? Wyatt is more important anyway. Chris and I will be fine."

"No, Piper," Leo shook his head. "In fact, I'd rather have you stay here. It's not safe for you to go looking for the demon that's trying to kill you."

"I kind of agree!" Phoebe piped up.

"Oh, I'm definitely going," Piper said, her hackles rising. She would not be pushed aside; hell no, she would not.

"It's for the best," Leo went on, "You stay here and —"

"Don't tell her what to do," Chris snapped fiercely, taking a step towards Leo, "Don't _you_ tell her what's for the best."

"I'm just trying to help," Leo replied diplomatically, and his temporary strength seemed to waver under Chris's intense glare.

"Stop trying," Chris nearly snarled. Rather than further weakening Leo, however, his words had the opposite effect. Leo's face set.

"Piper is my wife, Chris, and I will not put her at risk because it's what you want —"

"She's your ex-wife, actually," Chris cut him off fiercely, "And more importantly, she's my _mother._ Do you really think I would put my own mom's life in danger? Do you really think _that_ little of me?" he demanded.

Leo only stared, his mouth opening and shutting as if he wasn't sure where he had gone wrong. Chris took that to mean he had won. "Phoebe, Paige, try and . . . think outside the box or something," he instructed. "We'll be back soon."

He reached his hand out to Piper. She was as shocked as Leo. The way he had spoken about her — it had been to hurt Leo, she was sure, but at the same time, the fire in his voice, did that mean something? Was there a part of him that _didn't_ hate her?

"Piper?" Chris prompted. She grabbed his hand in hers.

"Chris, I don't think little of you at all," Leo suddenly began, as if he had finally found his voice again. "And I didn't mean to —" Piper never heard the end of his sentence, because Chris chose that moment to orb them away.

When she found her footing again, it was to see that Chris had orbed them to a rather traditional-looking demonic lair this time. He released her hand swiftly, turning in a circle with his eyes darting every which way.

"Where are we?" Piper asked, glancing around herself as well.

"Tracer demon lair," Chris answered curtly. "Be ready to blast any unpleasant ones," he instructed.

"Do you — are you friends with these demons? Or allies or something?" Piper hated the underworld, she really did; she hated absolutely everything about it, and the creepy feeling crawling down her spine at this instant was just a tiny part of it.

It was such a quick change of scenery, such a complete turn around. One minute she was in the kitchen arguing with her family over plans and despairing as she unsuccessfully attempted to analyze every word Chris said, every expression that danced across his face and every movement he made, the next moment she was posed at the ready to kill demons in the underworld.

"Not exactly," Chris answered. "I know plenty about them, though."

"But —"

That's when it started.

"Blast them!" Chris shouted at the exact moment more demons than Piper could count shimmered into the cavern surrounding them. Piper didn't even think as she started exploding, hitting demon after demon in quick succession. Whenever one hurled a fireball at her, she found Chris orbing her out of its path.

Barely a minute had passed in the time it took her to explode at least twenty demons as echoes and shouts and fireballs surrounded her, Chris constantly orbing her here and there. _Why exactly was this his big, grand plan?_

Even as she thought it, someone yelled harshly, "Cease fire!" and Chris put his hand on Piper's, effectively stopping her from blowing up that demon with the scarred eye — he'd been next. The dusty air cleared almost instantly, and Piper saw that another seven or eight demons remained, all glaring at her and her son.

"What do you want?" one growled.

"What do you think?" Chris replied smoothly. "We want your assistance."

"So you come in here and try and blow us to smithereens?" another asked. The first to speak glared at him, and it was clear who was leader.

"It was that or come here and let you blow us to smithereens," said Chris, addressing the hooked nose leader. "Now, how'd you like a job? You are the clan of Tracers that don't care who you work for, aren't you?"

"What's in it for us?" came the grizzled reply.

"What do you want?" Chris countered.

"Nothing you can give," another of the demons snarled, stepping towards Chris. Automatically, Piper blew him up before he even had time to scream. All the other demons shifted angrily.

"How about asylum?" Chris offered causally, "A guarantee that the Charmed Ones won't come after you. Or, you know, we could kill you all right now."

"I'd like to see you try," challenged one of the demons, lifting his arm to throw a fireball once more. Piper dodged the bolt of blue energy even as she blew up the demon that'd been stupid enough to throw it.

"Do you _really_ want to see us try?" Chris asked coldly, "Because there are other Tracer clans that could assist us." Piper lifted her hands up as if to blow another of the demons into dirt and dust. Her threat was well understood.

"Enough," the leader declared gruffly. "You guarantee us protection from the Charmed Ones, and you have our assistance — just this once."

"Just this once is all we'll need," Chris said.

"Who are you looking to find?" the leader asked.

And then, to Piper's confusion, Chris gave an awful grin. "How'd you like to help us capture a Thraxor demon?"

Piper didn't know how to react when all the demons grinned too.

_What exactly had Chris just gotten them into?_

**To Be Continued. . . .**

A/N: I know this opened up a few more questions, such as why Chris chose to actually talk about the future with Paige, but never fear -- the next chapter will have a scene that is from Chris's POV.

Please, please review. It completely makes my day and it always helps to know what readers do and do not like; it allows me to write the next chapter even better :)


	9. Chapter 9

_A/N: Chapter nine, ladies and gentlemen! As always, may I remind you that this is completely AU after 6.12 "Prince Charming." Everything up to that is included in the story, but everything after is up in the air -- even events in the seventh and eighth season! And of course, no infringement is intended by my writing of this story. I write for enjoyment only :)_

_

* * *

_In the last ten minutes alone, his emotions had covered the entire range of those felt by characters in a Lifetime movie. Sorrow, pain, regret, confusion, anger, and sorrow again, all playing on an unending reel in her head. For the first time in a long time, she wanted to shout out, "For God's sake, keep your emotions to yourself!"

Not that he could help it. No, it was the price she paid for being an empath. Phoebe let out a sigh. And Paige glanced at her, giving her a sympathetic face. "Is everything okay?" Leo asked, looking up from his book to glance back and forth between the two sisters.

Phoebe felt her heart go out to her beloved brother-in-law. Even with everything that was going on with him, even with the entire spectrum of unpleasant emotions he was feeling at this moment, he was still good, and kind, and perceptive enough to notice the silent emotional communications between Phoebe and Paige.

"No, it is not," declared Paige, slamming shut the book she had just been reading. "Somewhere else," she waved at the book, and it disappeared in a swirl of white orbs.

"What's the matter?" Leo frowned.

"What's the matter," Paige told him irritably, "Is that we've been at this for an hour and I think my vision is starting to blur, my back is aching, and I might be developing an ulcer. Not to mention the fact that I haven't shaved my legs in like a week, and I was going to do it last night but obviously that didn't happen, and there's the whole fact that _we're not finding anything!_"

"Okay, sweetie, I don't know if I should try and comfort you or just tell you TMI," Phoebe replied. Paige orbed a pencil at her in response, sticking out her tongue before groaning and letting her head fall back.

"You can't give up hope, Paige," Leo began, "We can do this. Now, I know it seems like a lot of work, but there are three of us, and this is for our family. No work is too much for family."

"I've gotta say, Leo," Phoebe said, tilting her head at him, "Whatever Chris has against you in the future, it can't be your lack of trying." Leo gave a half-hearted smile in reply. His sorrow washed over Phoebe in an insurmountable wave, and she let out another sigh.

"He told us to think outside the box," Paige said, rolling her neck. "What does that even mean?"

"I've actually been thinking about that," Phoebe said, perking up slightly, "And I think I might actually be on to something." Paige and Leo both perked up as well, and Phoebe felt hope bounce around inside her. As good as that was to feel, maybe it was time they gave Leo some of the potion that kept Phoebe from feeling her sisters' emotions.

She frowned.

"Ah, Phoebe?" Paige waved a hand in front of her face.

"I just realized something," she said, pulling her legs off the couch she'd been sprawled across and sitting up.

"Yeah, about how to save Wyatt by thinking outside the box?" prompted Paige. "Want to give us a little more to go on?"

"No, not that, I mean about Chris. Oh my God, why didn't I see it earlier?"

"See what?" Leo frowned.

"The reason why I could never feel anything from Chris," Phoebe clarified. "I just let it go; I never really gave it any thought. When Bianca tried to take him back to the future, I started to feel things from him, but that was just because he was sick. . . . he must have taken the potion, see. After all, he was the one who got it for us."

"I knew he got it for himself," Leo muttered. Phoebe gave him a puzzled look. "Although, at the time," Leo went on, "I thought he was doing it to hide something from us. Which he was, I guess, but not for what I thought." He looked so ashamed of himself sitting there, and the guilt that Phoebe could feel from him only added to her own feelings of pity.

"Yeah, but that means he worked really hard to keep things from us," she said. "He went to all that trouble, just to keep me from reading his emotions. What was he afraid for me to feel? It's not like his feelings would give away his true identity."

"Maybe," Paige began hesitantly, "Maybe it would."

"What do you mean?" asked Leo.

"I talked with Chris earlier, and he . . . he opened up a little to me."

"He opened up to you? How did you get him to do that? Oh, this is so good. What did he say?" Phoebe fired question after question at Paige. She could even feel the eagerness, the hope and curiosity that Leo was experiencing.

"He just . . . I asked him about my daughter, Penny. About why she hated me and stuff," Paige explained. "He was really hesitant to say anything and kept saying he couldn't, but then I just, I told him what I told you — about how we're a lot a like — and he," she shrugged, "He just kind of started talking."

"What did he tell you?" Leo asked.

"He told me that he and Penny both hated Magic School because they were like celebrities there, and they hated all the attention, so instead they went to normal school, but that was hard too, because it isn't easy being the kid of a Charmed One."

"I never thought of that, before," Phoebe murmured. She _hadn't_ ever considered that. Of course, she'd thought to herself what a disaster it would have been to have her powers as a teenager, but she had never considered what a burden it would have been, keeping it a secret and all.

"That was pretty much it," Paige added. Phoebe sensed there was a little more to it, but she suspected there was a reason Paige would keep it to herself. It was probably about Paige, and if her sister didn't want to share right now, that was okay.

"Look," Paige went on, "What I'm trying to say is that I think Chris cares more about us then he lets on. He's really bitter and a little emotionally bruised, I think, but I don't think he necessarily _hates_ us."

"He hates _me_," Leo replied sadly.

Paige didn't have a response, and Phoebe felt her heart contort with the pain of her brother-in-laws emotions. "So, ah, what is it that you realized about Wyatt?" Leo asked Phoebe, bringing them back to the current conversation.

"Oh, I was just . . . what if it's not a demon?"

"What?" Paige and Leo asked at the same time.

"It sounds crazy, I know," Phoebe assured, "But think about it. If it was a demon, then wouldn't Salome have been able to see it?"

"Wouldn't she have been able to see it if it _wasn't_ a demon?" Paige asked.

"And if it isn't a demon, then what is it?" Leo questioned, "It couldn't be a mortal."

"I don't know, I don't know, I'm just trying to think outside the box," Phoebe sighed. "All I'm saying is that maybe it's not simply a demon who gets a hold of Wyatt and uses magic to turn him evil. It has to be more complex than that."

"And you don't know how it could be more complex?" Paige prodded.

"I don't have any idea whatsoever, actually, Paige," Phoebe replied. "But maybe," she gave a half-hearted shrug of her shoulders, "Maybe I should speak to the guys who write about crime on the paper. They might have some tips."

"How exactly would they be helpful?"

"You know, something about child kidnapping or _something_," Phoebe explained.

Paige looked skeptical, but Leo told Phoebe encouragingly, "If you think you see a lead there, Phoebe, I think you should pursue it."

"Does now sound like a good time?" she asked, pushing herself to her feet. "It's not like we're getting anything done here." It was true: they'd been there for over an hour, and after another hour, Phoebe doubted they'd be any further along. And she hated it. It was torture to sit there doing nothing while Piper and Chris were in danger.

"How about you go and I'll put together a list of demons we still haven't gone after," Paige suggested, "and Leo can talk to the Elders about the possibility of someone other than a demon going after Wyatt. See if there's any precedence."

Leo nodded. "I can do that."

"Are you going to tell them?" Phoebe asked suddenly as she watched Leo slowly stand, running a hand tiredly though his hair.

"Tell who what?" he gave her a puzzled frown.

"Tell the Elders that Chris is your son," she replied.

"I guess I will," he sighed, "I really hadn't thought about it."

"Yeah, Pheebs, I don't think it matters," Paige added.

Phoebe shrugged. She supposed it didn't really matter. Honestly, though, she simply didn't have too favorable opinion of the Elders, and it seemed right to question what they told them. Then again, Leo was an Elder — how could she _not_ at least respect them?

"I'll see you all later," she sighed, starting out of the attic. "Oh, and if Piper and Chris come back —"

"I'll get you right away," Paige promised with a small smile. "Now go do some out-of-the-box research!" Phoebe nodded and headed down the stairs. She was in the living room slipping on her coat when Leo caught up with her.

"Hey," he began hesitantly, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Phoebe said, giving him a heartening smile.

"How do you — how do you think I should try talking to Chris? I mean, I know I need to talk to him, but I don't even know where to start and I don't know how to get him to stand still long enough to listen and I was just . . . I was hoping you might have some advice?"

Phoebe bit her lip, holding in a sigh. She could feel his hope — and his desperation.

"I don't know what to tell you, Leo; I'm not having much better luck reaching out to him. I think the best thing you can do is just show him you're here for him. Show him that he can count on you, that you _are _a good father. And then maybe he'll come to you."

"Do you really think so?" he asked skeptically.

"It's all I've got," she admitted, "It looks like he's opening up to Paige, though, and he seems to have a grudging respect for Piper. You can ask them if you want. Like I said, I can't ever feel anything from him, and I certainly didn't see this coming before anyone else. I still can't really process that he's my nephew, you know?"

"Yeah," Leo muttered. "Alright," he cleared his throat. "I'll let you go."

She squeezed his should, giving him a reassuring smile. "We're going to get through this, Leo; we always do." She was immediately filled with his doubt. "If we all just do what we can," she went on, "we can make this work: we'll save Wyatt and we'll save Piper and we'll get through to Chris."

"I'll talk to the Elders," he agreed.

She nodded. She had almost made it out the door before she glanced back, titled her head, and asked curiously, thoughtfully, "Hey, so what do you think Piper and Chris are up to at this point?"

* * *

The last time she had done this, Prue had been alive. Cole was alive, too, and they were just barely coming to the realization that he was one in the same as Belthazar. It seemed like a lifetime ago that she and Prue had summoned Belthazar, accidentally brought forth a Tracer demon with "stomachs," and then teamed up with him to try and get Belthazar.

It was her last interaction with a Tracer demon. As helpful as he'd been, he was as awful as every other demon, and Piper had been glad to wash her hands of him. She had never once since considered using a Tracer demon again.

Here she was, though, crouching on the ground behind a big boulder like some sort of Neanderthal. "Are you sure about this?" she hissed to one of the Tracer demons beside her. Of course Chris couldn't just get a hold of one Tracer demon; the boy had to team up with an entire clan. _Only Chris, honestly_, she mentally rolled her eyes.

"I'm always sure," the demon replied, his nostrils flaring. She didn't bother responding. She ought to focus her attention on trying to keep from breathing in through her nose and having to smell the demon beside her, anyway. Paige would certainly have something to say about the hygiene of demons if she was here now.

They had been running around with the Tracer demon clan for almost two hours now, if Piper guessed correctly, and so far they had been to too many demonic lairs and she was growing tired of blowing demons up — something of which she should never tire. Chris and the leader of the clan had been conversing in low voices in the entire time, and it made Piper wonder why he had even invited her along.

He seemed to have a firm hold of things by himself.

Sure, she had helped him win the Tracer demons over by blowing half of them up, and she was helping the Tracer demons do their job by blowing up _more_ demons, but she knew if she hadn't been able to come, Chris would have found a way to do it all himself.

It made her a little sad.

In almost all of her battles, Piper hadn't been alone. She'd had her sisters. They were a team. Chris was fighting all by himself. It shouldn't be like that. The few times Piper had been forced to fight on her own had been horrible . . . and even during those times she'd usually had Leo to guide and support her. Chris really had no one.

Chris caught her eye suddenly, nodding his head to the side, as if fetching her. It seemed to be his, "Come on, we're leaving" signal, and rather than protest she merely nodded and headed over to him. There was no reason to hide behind the rock anymore: the demons they had snuck up on had known nothing and Chris had been happy to see the Tracer demons kill them all.

"Where are we going next?" she asked, "To another dead end?"

"This isn't a dead end," the leader growled, "I can smell them in the air. They were here earlier. And I can smell where they've gone."

"My, Grandma, what a big nose you have."

The demon only glared, shimmering away even as Chris gripped Piper's shoulder and orbed the two of them. When they rematerialized, they were in the largest demonic cavern yet. The ceilings disappeared into darkness and the lair was so great that Piper's first thought was of a demonic ballroom. She nearly snorted at her own thoughts.

There was one demon in a far corner, shifting through papers on a table. It was the most civilized thing they'd seen since they'd begun. As soon as Piper, Chris, and about six Tracer demons appeared, however, the demon at the table leapt to attention.

He was tall and thin, his face shallow and his eyes sunken in his face, but otherwise he looked rather clean for a demon. His clothing wasn't torn, his black hair was cut short; he had no piercings or tattoos that Piper could see. If she'd passed him on the street, she probably wouldn't have thought twice about it.

Then he aimed a fireball at them. Chris orbed it back at him, and he whirled around to escape being hit by his own ammunition. A few of the Tracer demons shimmered away and appeared behind him, so that their small party circled the demon.

The demon only gave a sneering grin and started to shimmer, but Chris orbed at the exact same time, and Piper watched in slight fear as the blue orbs ran into the shimmering form and knocked the demon to the ground. When Chris reappeared, he was crouching over the demon and pressing a knife to its neck.

"Play nice, now," Chris breathed threateningly.

"What do you want?" the demon asked coolly.

"You are from the Thraxor clan?" the leader of the Tracer demons asked, stepping forward menacingly.

"And if I am?" replied the demon. He didn't seem the least bit concerned, and that unsettled Piper. Calm demons always made her uneasy.

"Do you know the demon Amaymon?" Chris asked.

"And if I do?"

"Okay, buddy, get a new line," Piper cut in angrily. The demon only smirked at her. In a sudden, quick movement, Chris slammed the butt of the knife into the demon's face, the blow of which sent the demon onto his back. He had probably broken the demon's nose, judging by the sudden blood that shot forward after the sickening crunch.

"We're not here to play games," Chris said coldly. "_Answer_ us: do you know the demon Amaymon?" When the demon didn't reply, Chris heaved him up by his shirt and slammed another punch into his face before dropping him to ground unceremoniously.

"You're wasting your time," the demon spat.

Chris instantly waved his hand furiously and the demon flew through the air until, as Chris raised his other hand up, the demon slammed into some sort of invisible wall and fell to the ground with a resounding thud. "What did you say to me?" Chris snapped. "Care to say it one more time?"

The Tracer demons chuckled to themselves, clearly enjoying Chris's tactics.

It didn't break the demon, though.

"Sorry, kid," he gave an awful grin. Piper flinched in preparation for the vicious response Chris was sure to give, a response that would contort his features with anger and hate. But the response she expected never came.

Instead, Chris stood frozen, his eyes wide and his face going pale suddenly.

A moment later the room filled with more demons than Piper could count.

Piper immediately started firing at every demon that came into her line of vision. They more than outnumbered her, though, and she found herself kicking and dodging and running and crawling and getting battered and finally thrown against a far wall. Her whole back screamed in protest, and she could feel blood soaking the shirt around her shoulder.

She bit her lip to control the pain and raised her hands to keep firing back at the demons as she pushed herself to her feet. They were all so different — short and tall, small and large, menacing and rather pathetic, some tattooed, some pierced — but at the same time they all had the same sort of air about them, the same kind of strange cleanliness and palpable arrogance.

It had to be the Thraxor clan.

A fireball slammed into her arm and the pain was searing, but she managed to duck out of the way of a second one and then blew up the young demon that had fired. She saw one of the Tracer demons explode into nothing and she knew it wouldn't be long before all the Tracer demons were killed.

She had to get out of there. She had to get Chris, and they had to get out of there.

The air was buzzing with magic and dirt and explosions, and Piper couldn't see clearly. There had to be at least three dozen demons attacking them. "CHRIS!" she yelled as she threw herself to her feet to avoid an onslaught of _knives_ that were thrown at her. It was all she could think to do, so she shouted out again, "CHRIS!"

There was no response. If he'd heard her, and he'd been able to yell in reply, then she hadn't heard him. A demon loomed over her and she blew up his leg, sending him flying as she flipped over and jumped back to her feet.

There was nothing for it: as much as she hated to bring more of her family into danger, she and Chris would die if she didn't. "LEO!" she screamed out, but before she could let out another word, a fireball breezed past her face, skimming her ear and sending her once more through the air.

When she hit the ground her leg snapped and the pain was threefold. There was blood dripping down her face from her ear and she could taste it, coppery and warm, in her mouth. They were getting slaughtered.

She tried to push herself to her feet but failed, even as she watched the leader of the Tracer demon let out a furious roar and then become victim to at least five fireballs. She couldn't stand. She blew up the nearest Thraxor demon, only to find herself looking into the eyes of that first one they'd found and surrounded. He was bleeding from a cut on his face and one on his arm, but otherwise he looked rather calm.

He raised his hands up even as she did the same, but then another demon — she didn't even know if he was on her side or not at this point — came flying at her and actually hit her, sending her rolling over and giving her opponent the upper hand. It was then that a thought that had occurred to her for the briefest of instants on more than one occasion came to her: _this is it._

The clean, dark-haired demon was going to kill her. The fireball that he fired out of his hands, however, completely missed its target as it hit the wall ten feet above her head. Piper barely registered what was going on as she realized the reason she'd been spared was Chris.

Chris, her boy, had rammed into the demon, knocking them both to the ground. Chris was rather bruised and bloodied, but he didn't show a single sign of fatigue as he wrestled with the demon, his hands grasping at the demon's neck as if to strangle him.

"Chris!" Piper cried, crawling towards him. They needed to get out of here.

Another demon shot a fireball out of her, and she dipped out of the way and returned fire. A moment later she felt a hot hand on her gripping her arm to tightly it was painful, and she experienced the strange but familiar sensation that was orbing.

Perhaps he hadn't had the strength to make it back to the manor; she didn't know. All she knew was that when they reappeared, it was in the Tracer demons' lair, and it wasn't just her and Chris: he had brought along that first demon.

"I'll kill you," Chris snarled, already fighting with the demon once more. As Piper tried to crawl out of the way, she wondered how Chris had even been able to orb them out when he was so engaged in the battle with this one Thraxor demon.

It was hard to tell, but Piper was pretty sure Chris was even worse off than her: she could barely see his face for all the blood. Still, it didn't show in the way he fought tooth and nail with the demon. If only Chris would get in a position that'd allow Piper to blow the demon into oblivion. . . .

Chris screamed suddenly, a horrible, agonizing deep growl that sounded as if it were truly ripped from his lips and Piper felt alarm course through her like poison when she realized that the demon had nearly clawed off her son's ear. The sight of the blood that poured from the gaping gashes was as painful to Piper as to Chris.

After another minute, though, a minute that passed so quickly Piper could hardly process it, could hardly even remember to simply keep breathing, the demon let out an unreal, piercing snarl before he was thrown backwards and crashed into the ground a few feet off. He lay motionless on the ground, a tiny trickle of blood leaking out of his mouth. Chris had won.

Piper looked at Chris. He met her gaze.

And then he collapsed.

She rushed to him, crying out his name as she dragged her broken leg towards him. The pain pulsing through her had tripled now that immediate danger was gone and her brain allowed her body to feel once more, but it still wasn't enough to stop her.

Chris's clothing was nearly ripped to shreds; she could see evidence of more than a few fireballs littered on his arms and even on his neck: large, bloody, charred burns. Blood had soaked his hair and darkened the brown color to black even as the blood seeped endlessly from a split on his lap and the gashes about his ear.

"Chris, baby," she murmured, pulling his head into her lap. "It's okay, it's okay, it's over. . . ."

"That's him," Chris breathed, "That's Amaymon. I recognize him," he was breathing heavily now, and the more time passed the more he seemed to struggle to keep it together, as if the full force of what had happened to him was rapidly sinking in, having at first been held off by the adrenaline of the battle. "When he said those words, I — I — I recognized him. . . ."

"LEO!" Piper shrieked. "LEO, GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!"

"A-am-am-aymon," Chris muttered urgently, his eyelids fluttering, "I saw him right after . . . you . . . he kill . . . killed y-you, and he said. . . ."

"It's okay," Piper cried. Flashes of Prue's dead body crowded her mind, and she clutched at Chris. She was being unreasonable. Of course he wouldn't die; he was just a little battered. "LEO!" she shouted. _Why wasn't he coming?_

"You've got-gotta kill 'em," murmured Chris.

"I will," Piper assured, "I'll kill him, and damn it — LEO!"

Chris said something else, but the words were too muttered and slurred for Piper to understand. This was ridiculous. Her own pain, Chris's pain, it could all be easily solved — it _would_ be easily solved as soon as Leo bothered to show up.

"LEO!" she yelled. She looked down at Chris; his eyes were closed now and she realized — as strange as it was to notice at this moment — that his eyelashes were long and thick. "I love you," she told him, her voice breaking slightly, "I love you so much."

"Mmm, love . . . too," Chris replied.

"LEO! COME ON! YOUR SON IS _DYING!_"

At long last, a swirl of orbs brought Leo into the lair. "I'm sorry, Piper, I was with the Elders and —" Leo's eyes landed on Piper, bloody and sitting with a twisted leg, and Chris, drenched in blood and bruises, his head in her lap.

"GET OVER HERE!" Piper shrieked, her eyes bulging. She didn't care why he was late! "Fix him, heal him, _save_ him!" she demanded.

Suddenly breathing short and shallow, Leo hurried to them, falling to his knees and immediately reaching out his hands to cover Chris. A soft, warm, golden glow appeared beneath his hands, and Piper shook with relief.

"They completely ambushed us," Piper cried. "There were so many of them, and Chris and I lost track of each other, but then he saved me, and he was fighting so fiercely — he was so badly hurt but he didn't even collapse until he'd finished the job and —"

The relief in her doubled as she watched the blood disappear from Chris's face, as she watched the gashes around his face heal themselves, as she watched the burns from fireballs disappear and give way to soft, smooth, untouched flesh.

Suddenly he took a shuttering breath, his eyes fluttering open. Leo leaned back some and Chris pushed himself to his feet without missing a step. It was as if he'd never been hurt at all. Piper let out a crying gasp, her heart bursting. It was okay, it was okay, _it was okay. . . ._

"Chris," Leo said, concern etched in his face.

"Not me, _her_! Heal her, already!" Chris demanded, and the firmness of her voice washed pleasantly over Piper. It was then that she felt the warm, golden glow of Leo's powers on her. The throbbing pain where the fireballs had hit and grazed her disappeared; the excruciating ache in her broken leg faded away. Even the soreness in her back seemed to dissolve into nothing as Leo healed her.

"You're good," Leo murmured to her.

Chris didn't seem to hear him. "You okay?" he asked her. Piper didn't answer. She only stood and grabbed him, hugging his lanky frame. She wrapped her arms tightly around his back and pressed her check against his as she stood on her tiptoes and clutched him.

"Don't scare me like that," she said. At first he was stiff in her arms, standing awkwardly as if unsure how to respond, but then slowly his arms wrapped around her loosely, and he seemed to sink into the embrace if for only a moment.

"Sorry," he replied softly.

When she pulled away, he wouldn't meet her gaze.

It didn't bother her. He was okay. _They_ were okay, or, at least, they would be. It didn't matter if he didn't call her mom; it didn't matter if he didn't know how to hug her. Even if he'd only muttered it, barely conscious, she'd still heard him say he loved her.

And for now, that was enough.

* * *

He couldn't look at her. But even as he thought it, his eyes landed on the demon. Amaymon. _The demon that kills her_, he thought savagely, a sneer unintentionally forming on his face as he stared at the thin, dark-haired Thraxor demon.

He hadn't recognized him at first. When they'd first found him in that huge cave, when he'd put a knife to his neck and demanded answers, he hadn't put two and two together and realized that the very demon for which he was searching was right in his grasp.

He had been so young when his mom had died, and he had barely caught a flash of the demon that had done it. The only reason he had eventually recognized that one Thraxor demon as the one that killed his mother, as Amaymon, was because of what he'd said.

"_Sorry, kid,"_ he'd muttered. Years ago, he'd stared at Chris and said the very same words. Then he'd shimmered away and left Chris to watch his mother die.

"Chris?" murmured Leo. "Are you alright?"

"We need to kill him. Think you can handle it?"

"Kill who?" Leo asked. "That demon?"

"Who else?" Chris snapped.

"It's okay," Piper soothed, reaching out a hand to rub Chris's arm comfortingly. He didn't know how to respond, and he decided to simply pretend she wasn't even there. He couldn't deal with that right now.

"If you don't want to kill him, Leo, then I will," Chris said. He didn't have time for whatever half-assed reason Leo could come up with to spare a demon. Of course Leo would want to stop him from killing Amaymon, the demon who blasted his mom's life right out of her. It was as if the fucking man lived to spite Chris.

"No, no, I'm not saying we shouldn't kill him," Leo assured hastily, "I was just thinking we should try questioning him first."

"What for?" Chris asked, not taking his eyes off of the unconscious demon. He wouldn't get away this time. He _wouldn't._

"To see why he went after Piper, so that another demon doesn't just replace him in the future." Leo paused, adding softly, "So that we really can save her."

It killed Chris to admit it, but Leo was right. "Let's get him back to the manor, then," he said coldly, "We can't risk the rest of the Thraxor demons following us here to rescue him." And before Leo or Piper could respond to that, Chris stalked to the demon, put his foot down on the awful creature's chest, and orbed him to the attic of the manor.

Loud pop music was playing as Chris appeared in the attic, and the first thing he noticed was Paige, sprawled across the couch with the _Book _in her lap as she bobbed her head to the music. As soon as she caught sight of him, and the motionless demon pinned beneath his foot, she froze.

Leo and Piper orbed in a minute after him.

"Is that him?" Paige asked, even as Piper cut off the CD player.

"That's him," Chris answered curtly. "Where's Phoebe?"

"I'll get her," Paige volunteered immediately, orbing away.

"Chris," Leo said, stepping towards him.

"Whatever you have to say — save it," Chris dismissed, already setting about gathering crystals and placing them in a circle around Amaymon. Thankfully, neither Piper nor Leo said anything more.

He couldn't believe how much had happened so soon. It almost seemed surreal. And the way it had happened just made it all worse. To see the demon that his teenage self had watched kill his mother once again standing over her, ready to hit her with a fatal fireball, it was more than any one person should have to handle.

If he hadn't had years of practice, he probably would have broken into tears by now.

But he was well aware at this point that tears did nothing. They didn't change anything, they didn't fix anything, and they most certainly didn't save anyone. Only the fucking naïve found comfort in tears, it was a lesson Chris knew well.

Paige and Phoebe orbed back into the attic.

"Is everybody okay?" Phoebe asked immediately.

"We're fine," Piper said, going on to explain the condensed version of what had happened, and Chris tuned her out. He can't believe she'd almost died. He'd led her so carelessly into danger. How could he have done that?

Leo had always called him reckless and rash.

_Fuck Leo._

Leo hadn't even come when Piper had shouted for him. Chris might have been fading out of consciousness, but he had still heard Piper screaming out desperately for Leo, and the man had only come at the very last minute. What had he been doing that was more important than the woman he allegedly loved begging for him to come help?

Probably the Elders, if Chris had to hazard a guess. Leo was the epitome of a company man, and there was no notion that Chris knew to be truer or hated with more vengeance. It was ironic, really. Chris had almost died by Amaymon's hands in the lap of his mother because Leo had been too busy playing Elder to come. And years ago, Piper had actually died by Amaymon's hands in the lap of Chris himself because Leo had been playing Elder and couldn't be spared to heed Chris's call.

God, he hated him.

"Chris?" He whirled around to see all the sisters and Leo looking at him questionably. He had obviously been tuned out for too long.

"What do you think we should do?" Paige asked, silently filling him in.

"You don't know how to question a demon?" Chris replied sharply. He couldn't help himself. He just needed a minute — only a minute — to think, to rest. He nearly scoffed at himself. He'd gone soft in the months he'd been in the past. When he was fighting in the Resistance, he had learned to go on and on without every pausing to think or rest.

He was ruining himself.

"I think we've got it," Piper declared. "Let's wake him up."

"Ooh, I'm all over it!" Paige grinned. She orbed away only to appear a few moments later with a bowl of water from the kitchen. "It's like waking up drunken ex-boyfriends," she told Chris perkily before throwing the water on Amaymon.

Chris couldn't help himself: he let a smile slip. The Paige of the future was almost a completely different person from this one. The Paige of the future had never once reminded him of Penny. The Paige of the past, on the other hand . . . well, all she ever did was remind him of Penny.

And then, as if they were in a movie, the splash of cold water had the demon sputtering to consciousness. As soon as he realized where he was, he shot to his feet. "Going somewhere?" Piper taunted as Amaymon took a step forward only to jump back as the crystals buzzed threateningly.

"Do you really think you can hold me captive for long?" Amaymon asked, glaring haughtily out at them.

"Try us," Phoebe spat.

"We are the Charmed Ones, bozo," Paige added, her hands on her hips.

"Ooh, now you've really frightened me," Amaymon mocked.

"You should be frightened," Piper said before blasting him through the crystal cage. Amaymon was thrown against the opposite of edge of the cage, and it electrocuted him, sending him to his knees.

Chris felt vindictive pride in Piper.

Much as he resented the sisters, he couldn't help but admit that they really were badasses. It was about the only thing he and Wyatt could still agree on before Chris left for the past. Nobody could hold a candle to them.

"Now, how about we try talking?" Phoebe said, her voice oozing with sweetness.

"If you answer really nicely," Paige added, "We might not have to torture you!"

Amaymon only sneered.

"Freeze his bits, Piper," Paige said, "Phoebe's been having me practice my high kick," and as if to demonstrate, Paige kicked at air, jumping from foot to foot as if she were a little child about to receive candy. Phoebe and Piper exchanged smirks.

"I think," Leo addressed Amaymon, stepping forward slowly, "It would be in your best interest to cooperate."

"You haven't even asked me any questions yet," Amaymon shot back, and Chris saw his eyes dart about the room. It was a quick, barely perceptible action, but he knew that the demon was looking for an escape root.

He was wasting his time. Even if he managed to get out of the crystal cage, no way in hell would Chris let the filthy demonic jackass get away.

"Why would you kill me?" Piper asked. It occurred to Chris that in fact perhaps Leo _was_ wrong in suggesting they interrogate Amaymon. This line of questioning wasn't exactly going to make much sense. Even if Amaymon did have a solid reason for killing Piper, a reason that would be enough for another Thraxor demon to do the job if Amaymon were dead, that didn't mean that reason necessarily existed now.

He wouldn't actually kill Piper for several years.

"Because you're a _witch_, perhaps?" Amaymon suggested scornfully.

"And a Charmed One," Leo replied. "Would you really be willing to bring the revenge that would follow upon yourself by killing one of the Charmed Ones?"

"I haven't killed anyone, yet," Amaymon spat. "And the only reason I almost did earlier was out of self-defense," he straightened slightly. "Surely you can't contest that." He paused slightly, "And besides, everyone knows Piper Halliwell is the only Charmed One that packs any real punch."

He glanced at Phoebe as he added disdainfully, "Aren't you an _empath_?"

"You really want to face me one on one?" Phoebe replied, not batting an eyelash. "I could kill you without breaking a sweat." Amaymon wasn't fazed by the threat.

He looked at Chris. "And what about you?" he asked, the gaze of his dark eyes meeting Chris's burning glance. Chris felt his inside pinch tightly. He had never hated anyone so fully or greatly as he hated this demon.

"Are you as pathetic as her?"

Chris ground his teeth. What was this demon playing at anyway? What were _they_ playing at? This was a waste of time. It was almost as if Chris could hear Wyatt whispering in his ear right now. _Don't be a coward, little brother. Do what must be done. Assert your power, your dominance. Avenge our mother, Christopher._

It happened sometimes, when the fury reached a great enough height within Chris.

"Whatever it is you hope to gain," Piper said, "You're hoping in vain. Do you or do you not have any particular reason to kill a Charmed One, or would your attempted murder of one simply be an act of the moment?"

That was the best they could ask, Chris supposed. _Have you gone soft? Would you really be so weak as to allow a demon that wants your blood on his hands live a moment longer? Don't be a fool, little brother._

Amaymon only smiled. "You know," he said coolly, "When I get out of here I will enjoy killing each and every one of you. I will enjoy slaughtering your entire family and —"

Chris couldn't wait any longer. There was an athame on a nearby table, sitting among potion supplies Paige had been working with earlier, and Chris sent it flying through the air and straight into Amaymon's chest.

It hit home. Amaymon was blasted to pieces.

Chris would never really understand why some demons were like balloons, exploding if you hit the right spot, while others were harder to kill. It didn't matter. Either way, Amaymon was dead.

He stared at the spot where the demon that would kill his mother had stood.

He wouldn't kill her now.

Chris's memories didn't change, nothing changed, but somehow he realized everything was different. He didn't know if it was different now, in the present — or the past, depending on how you looked at it — or if it was different in the future. It was just different.

_I always knew you were more like me than you care to admit._

Chris swallowed back the anger. He needed to calm down. The weight of everything that had happened was suddenly repressing him worse than it had all day. He had to get out of here.

The room was silent, and he realized that while some of them might be mad at him, he couldn't care less. He should have killed the fucking demon in the first place. Why had he ever thought to bother listening to Leo?

"Chris?" whispered Phoebe, reaching forward him. "Do you —?"

He had to get out of here.

"Keep working on Wyatt," Chris interrupted, "I'm going to go check on something."

He had to get away from them.

He orbed away.

**TO BE CONTINUED . . .**

A/N: And there it is, another chapter. A lot happened, and it was certainly one of the most action packed chapters yet. I hope you enjoyed it! The next chapter will actually contain another memory (don't worry, Chris will put up a good fight!) and some more deep conversations. I know I promised some explanations from Chris, and all the ones I gave in this chapter were rather subtle. Stay tuned, and I'll give some bigger ones :)

I know I tend to use a few curse words with Chris, but I honestly feel his thought process isn't really a happy place, and there are bad words in unhappy places, people. I don't mean to offend anyone. Also, I know that Phoebe has been slightly neglected thus far in the story, but that's probably because she's my least favorite character (mind, I still love her -- but I love them all). She will play a major part in the next chapter, and the story of her children will be revealed.

Please review! It always makes my day.**  
**


	10. Chapter 10

_A/N: And I present to you chapter ten! This chapter is a whopper in length, so long in fact, that I actually cut the last two thousand or so words I had originally written and made them the start of the next chapter, (which means that hopefully the next chapter should come soon). Once again let me remind everyone that this is an AU story. There are mentions of plotlines from season six and even a different version of one scene I'm sure you all will recognize. Please don't point out that what I have happen is not accurate. I know it's not accurate. It's AU. Believe me: I've watched every episode of season six at least ten times. I know what really happens. That said, here's the standard disclaimer: I own no rights to any part of the Charmed Universe; I write only for my own entertainment and peace of mind._

_

* * *

_

The day threatened to stretch into forever.

It had barely been eleven in the morning when they'd all met up in the attic and Chris had killed Amaymon before orbing away. An hour later, Piper made them lunch, and it was eaten in uncomfortable silence.

Phoebe left for work — "I can't abandon my column no matter what," she told them. Paige fell asleep on the couch watching TV, and Piper was left to attack the kitchen with a sponge, a mop, green rubber globes and a copious amount of Mr. Clean.

By three in the afternoon, the kitchen was sparkling, the living room had been picked up, vacuumed, and dusted, and it was in the attic that Leo found her. She was meticulously sorting through boxes as she sat on the ground surrounded by odds and ends.

"Spring cleaning?" he asked as he sat on a sofa a few feet from her.

"Something like that," she murmured in reply, swiping at a stray lock of hair that had fallen in front of her face. She wouldn't look at him.

"I guess it's good to keep busy," Leo said.

"If you say so," was the curt response. After all this time, Leo knew without a doubt what a flat response from Piper meant.

He sighed. He was angry enough at himself; he couldn't have her angry with him, too. "Look, Piper, can we talk?"

"I'm keeping busy," she replied, the tiniest trace of sarcasm in her voice.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't went," Leo went on, refusing to be deterred, "But I have to speak. I'm sorry, Piper. You have to know that. I heard you calling me, I can't deny that, but I didn't realize the urgency and —"

Piper snorted.

Leo flinched. Waters were choppier than even he'd imagined. Could things get any worse for him at this point?

"Piper, _please,_" Leo pleaded. "The Elders were very interested to learn that Chris was our son from the future, and they were asking all sorts of questions. When you called, I immediately told them so, and I said I had to go, but they informed me that the call of a mortal did not always come first when there are matters to be discussed. They didn't understand the dire situation. As soon as I realized it, I explained and I came."

For a moment Piper didn't respond, and Leo wondered if she simply wasn't going to speak to him. It almost would have been better if that was the case.

"The call of a mortal," she repeated slowly, polishing an old, dented silver picture frame, "does not always come first when," she paused, as if to emphasize the words, "there are _matters_ to be discussed. Are you telling me," and finally she looked over at him, "that the mighty, benevolent Elders believe their intellectual discussions are more important than people's _lives_?"

"Piper, you know it's not like that!" Leo immediately objected.

"No!" she argued, her brows furrowing as she tossed the picture frame aside carelessly. "No, Leo, I don't know that. In fact, it's about the only thing I _do _know any more! After all this time, I thought I knew when you could recognize the danger I was in by the tone of my call. But apparently I was wrong."

"Piper —"

"I also thought I knew that you, however loyal you were to the Elders, would always choose to be there for you family when we needed you, but once again, _apparently_ I was wrong!"

"_Piper _—"

"And I thought you were really trying to reach out to your son, but hey, you know what comes next don't you? Apparently. I. Was. _Wrong._"

"Okay, just give me one second to —!"

"I'm not done yet!" Piper declared, standing up and narrowing her eyes at him. "I don't know anything anymore when it comes to you, Leo! Everything I thought about you is untrue! _All_ I know is that the Elders don't seem to give a shit about us! And you know what, that's fine, whatever; they want to sit on their thrones — okay! I don't care! But _you_, Leo? When did you become like that?"

"I'm not like that!" Leo protested, his voice rising despite himself. The words she threw at him were slowly but surely breaking his heart and he had to stop her; he had to make her understand the truth. "They're not like that, Piper! The Elders are —"

"Don't defend them!" she cut him off. "Don't you _dare_ defend them! Can you not understand that this conversation isn't about them? I already hate them! I hate everything they've done to me! I hate that they took you away; I hate that they think they can control the world when they know nothing of it; I _hate them!_ But this isn't about them.

"This is about us! This is about my family. And this is about the man I loved becoming someone I don't even recognize! You beat Chris up to get information out of him. And then you abandoned us when we needed you most. What happened, Leo? When did you become like this? When did you change?"

"I — I didn't change," he whispered hoarsely. Did she really believe that? Was she really ashamed of him? "Things changed when I became an Elder, but _I _didn't change, you have to have faith in that."

"You changed, alright," Piper said softly, sadly. "You're not the man I fell in love with. And that, _that _right there, is the worst of it. The Elders didn't just take my husband from me. They broke my heart."

"Piper," Leo murmured, tears pooling in his eyes. Every word that slipped from her mouth was another knife to his gut, and he couldn't take it. There was no one in this world he loved more than Piper Halliwell, and here she was, speaking of how he had changed and how he wasn't the man she loved anymore. This wasn't how this conversation was supposed to go.

"I can't do this," Piper shook her head, rubbing her hand at her temples. "I have to take care of my sons. I'm sorry. We'll just . . . we'll talk about it later." It sounded so callous as it left her lips, despite how tiredly she spoke.

She started towards the door.

"We have to talk about this now," Leo called out, struggling to keep his voice even. "Even if I've disappointed you, I don't want to disappoint my sons. I want to help. I _have_ to help."

"Just like you _had_ to help the Elders? Just you _had_ to join them?"

"Piper, you know why I —"

"No, you know, I really don't. Why did you leave us to become an Elder? Why was your _career_ more important than your family?"

"Being an Elder isn't a career," Leo told her. How could he make her understand? How could he explain it all to her?

"Then what is it?" Piper challenged.

"It's a calling! Like you — you being a Charmed One! It's what you're _meant_ to do!" Leo said, the sincerity making his voice tremble. She _had_ to understand. After everything he'd already lost, losing Piper's good opinion of him would be hitting rock bottom: it was all he had left of her.

"A calling," repeated Piper, her voice dry, "a _calling._"

"Yes," Leo replied, but he knew he'd already lost.

"Well, maybe a calling is reason enough for you, but you have to know that no matter what, if I was asked to choose between my family, between my sons and my sisters and the love of my life, and my duty as a Charmed one — I would always, without fail, _always_, chose my family.

"Duty is important, but it always comes second to family. Honestly, loyalty, equality, justice — they're all important, Leo. But they all come second to family."

Leo didn't know what to say, and it was with those final words that Piper, shaking her head softly to herself, turned away from him and continued out of the attic. Staring at the spot on which she had stood moments before, he listened to her footsteps fade away as she went down the stairs.

"She used to say that all the time."

Leo whirled around in surprise. Chris stood on the opposite end of the attic, apparently having orbed in without Leo's notice.

"Or I guess she'll start saying it all the time."

"Say — saying what?" Leo asked.

"That all the honorable things in the world always fall short of family, always come second to family," Chris answered.

"Chris," Leo murmured softly. Perhaps this was it. This was his chance to speak to Chris, to reach out to his son, to the dark-haired boy who so detested him. "Do you understand why I became an Elder?"

"I know why you became an Elder," Chris nodded as he stepped forward. Leo felt relief at first, but it quickly drained away. The way Chris spoke, the glint in his eye, the line of his lips — there was a biting remark sure to follow, Leo knew that.

"That's what happens in good businesses," Chris carried on, "when an employee does well. They get rewarded with the next highest rank. You did well, Leo. Congrats." Chris gave him a sarcastic smile as he clapped him mockingly on the shoulder.

Leo knew there was no point in saying anything.

Chris turned back towards Leo at the last minute, right before he left the attic. "Hey, if it makes you feel any better, in my past, you were in my life for about three years before you became an Elder. If babies could remember stuff, I'd have some great memories of you, I'm sure."

And then he was gone, and Leo blinked rapidly to stop the tears.

* * *

She couldn't help herself. The more they learned about who Wyatt would become, the more she wanted to hold her sister's baby, as if holding the little blonde boy would assure her that he couldn't possibly turn evil, that they'd succeed in saving him.

As soon as she arrived back at the house, she kicked off her shows and hung her keys on the rack, then headed upstairs. She wanted to see Wyatt. When she'd gone to work, she'd finished her column rather quickly, and she'd then gone out for coffee with the crime reporter at that paper and peppered him with questions.

He had told her some useful things and she had been eager to come home and share her findings, but now that she was home she really needed just to spend a minute with Wyatt and remind herself that he hadn't turned evil yet.

She didn't make it all the way into his room, however, as she found her path blocked by her other nephew, her dark haired, grown up nephew. His tall, thin frame was leaning against the door jam, and his eyes were trained on the crib a ways into the room.

"Hey," she murmured softly, hesitantly.

He didn't turn to look at her, his posture didn't change in the slightest, but he replied flatly, "Hey." She didn't know what her next move should be. Somehow in the last day or so Chris had become a kind of ticking bomb and she was so afraid of setting him off, of saying or doing the wrong thing, the thing that would make him truly hate her.

There was enough room in the doorway for her to stand beside him, and instinctively she moved a few feet forward and came to lean on the opposite side of door frame. His shoulder brushed hers and he stiffened. She wished she could hug him, could remove the tension in his shoulders.

Phoebe had always been one to show physical affections, and she hated how uncomfortable it made Chris. It only made his emotional isolation even worse. She glanced at baby Wyatt, sleeping soundly in his crib. He looked like a little angel, complete with soft blonde hair. Was that irony?

"I still can't get over the fact that he has blonde hair," she said, the words slipping easily from her lips. If she started slowly, surely she could get through to him. "I mean, Halliwells are brunettes. It's a part of our charm, you know?"

"Believe me, Wyatt has plenty of charm without having dark hair," Chris replied dryly.

Phoebe's confidence wavered slightly. Still, of all the Charmed Ones, she had always felt herself to be the best at the emotional stuff, and it wasn't simply because she was an empath; in fact, she thought she made a good empath _because _she was good at the emotional stuff. If anyone could reach Chris, it would be Phoebe.

"It must have been tough, growing up as Wyatt Halliwell's little brother, huh?" Phoebe asked softly, looking over at Chris. He didn't turn to look at her, and all she saw was his profile, was his locked jaw and emotionless expression. "I was the youngest growing up, and it's never really easy," she added.

"Yeah," Chris answered. He didn't sound like he cared very much or was even remotely interested in the conversation. Phoebe thought of what Paige had said earlier about relating to Chris. She was on to something with that.

"And it was pretty tough for me growing up without a dad," she said, looking at Wyatt again. "We'd already lost our mom and as much as we loved our grams, it was hard having a dad who didn't care at all." She paused, continuing softly, "you're not the only one who's felt abandoned by a father."

Chris scoffed slightly. "Phoebe," he said slowly, "it sucks that your dad walked out on you and your sisters. But what would it have been like, do you think, if he had only walked out on you? What if he still came by to see Piper all the time, what if he adored her and was always concerned for her and proud of her — but he didn't give a shit about you?"

Phoebe didn't know quite how to respond, but Chris saved her the struggle. "You don't know anything about my childhood, Phoebe. Just leave it at that."

"So is that why you hate Leo so much?" Phoebe asked; she couldn't _not _ask. "Was he simply never there for you? Because maybe that's something you can change, Chris. The Leo I know is always there for the people who love him, and if he changes, then it's up to you to tell him how it happens and help him _stop_ it from happening."

"You mean the way he was there when I was dying in the underworld and Piper screamed and screamed for him and he took his sweet time coming to heal me?" Phoebe definitely didn't have a response to that scornful question.

"Nobody's perfect," she murmured.

"But the worse kind of people is the people who think that they are," Chris replied, "and whether or not you realize that, Leo is one of those people. Look, Phoebe, there's no point in discussing this. I can't talk about the future. I can, though, talk about how to save Wyatt. Did you talk to that guy at the paper you thought might be able to help?"

His quick conversation turnaround took Phoebe by surprise, but she knew if Chris didn't want to talk about his father or his past — her future —, then she couldn't force it out of him. "I talked to him," she nodded. "I think maybe we should all sit down and do a little talking. He told me some pretty interesting stuff."

"Okay," Chris sighed, and at long last, he turned away from Wyatt and met her gaze. "Go get Paige and Piper and we can all talk up in the attic." He didn't wait for a response but only turned away from her and started walking towards the stairs to the attic. Phoebe let out her own sigh.

Somehow, she'd find a way to reach out to him. She would. She had to have faith that if you cared enough, you could always find a way to make family work. And she certainly cared.

Glancing one last time at Wyatt, she turned away from him and heading in the opposite direction of Chris. Paige was still sleeping on the couch when Phoebe entered the room, and she awoke her sister with a soft shake of the shoulders. "What?" Paige asked groggily, blinking up at Phoebe with a pout at being awakened on her face.

"Chris wants a meeting," Phoebe replied.

Paige let out a deep sigh, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. "What now?" she asked.

"I have some interesting ideas," Phoebe answered.

"Yeah, like what?" Piper asked, walking into the room and drying her hands on a washcloth.

"The attic," Phoebe replied, nodding upwards. "We should all talk about it together."

"Is Leo still here?" Paige asked, standing up and stretching her arms over her head.

"I . . . don't know," Phoebe said, glancing at a Piper, who only shook her head. "We should probably get him," she added.

"Chris won't like that," Piper warned as all three women started towards the stairs.

"He'll have to deal," Phoebe countered.

"_Okay,_ let me amend that," Piper said. "_I_ won't like that."

"Is that about him not showing up until the last minute?" Paige asked curiously as they all reached the second landing and crossed the hall to the stairs to the attic.

"Do you know he said he became an Elder because it was his _calling_?" Piper replied, and there was a clear note of anger in her voice. Phoebe felt sympathy for both Leo and her sister, as she was sure that if she could feel Piper's emotions, she would be able to feel the pain that accompanied that anger.

Paige was the first to enter the attic, and Phoebe and Piper filed in after her to find Chris standing behind the book, flipping through pages with a furrowed brow. "Hey, ready for yet another fun-filled Halliwell meeting?" Paige greeted him.

He looked up, his brow softening only slightly at the sight of them. "Phoebe said she had some ideas for us," he said, looking at Phoebe expectantly.

"Yeah, sis," Paige said as she slumped onto a nearby couch, "what is the big, bad new theory?"

"Okay, When I was talking to the crime guy at the paper, he said that most crimes are committed by someone that the victim knows," Phoebe said. Everyone only stared at her. "Look, I'm saying maybe it's not a demon. Maybe it's someone completely different. Maybe it's not even someone magical! Maybe a mortal who has something against the family — a mortal that we know, someone we trust."

"Like who, Darryl?" Piper raised her eyebrows skeptically at Phoebe.

"And how would that be possible?" Chris asked. "What mortal would have the power to do that? It doesn't seem very plausible."

"No, no, listen, you said we needed to think of something new; _this_ is new. It can't be something simple like a demon, we know that much. Maybe it isn't a demon that. It's not like it's a good magical being that does it, which only leaves a mortal."

"Yeah, Phoebes, but _how_ would a mortal be able to do that?" Paige asked.

"What if the reason Wyatt turns evil isn't because a spell is put on him?" Phoebe asked. She hated to think of that, she had hated the idea since the moment she had thought it, yet it wouldn't leave her mind.

"How else would he turn evil?" asked Piper sharply.

"The crime reporter told me about this serial killer that was arrested in New York a few months and is on trial right now," Phoebe began hesitantly. "The man was visious; he killed seven women mercilessly. His lawyers are saying he's not well, though; that his actions are due to childhood trauma. Apparently when he was a kid, a woman who was in love with his father but who had been rebuffed in favor of his mother kidnapped him and . . . abused him really badly."

"So, what, that turned him evil?" Paige asked softly.

"They eventually got him back, but it was after nearly _seven_ months with this psycho woman. He was so young and the abuse was both mental and physical and it was so hard on him that it permanently messed him up," Phoebe explained. "It _changed_ him."

"Do you really think that something like that could happen to Wyatt?" Piper asked, and her voice was slightly strained.

"Not exactly like that, of course, but if someone who had a vendetta against us were to get a hold of him and treat him badly for long enough before we could get him back — can't you see that twisting a person into becoming as evil as Wyatt does?"

"Was Wyatt ever kidnapped?" Paige asked Chris.

He shook his head. "Not that I can remember," he replied. "I know that something really bad happened to him before I was born, but nobody ever wanted to talk about it. Maybe that was it, but I don't know."

"Maybe that's it, then, Phoebe," Paige said. "Maybe you're on to something."

"I can't believe this," Piper murmured, moving to sit down. "I won't let it happen," she vowed suddenly. "I won't let some psycho torture my baby and treat him so terribly it turns him evil."

"It might not necessarily be true," Phoebe said suddenly, giving Piper a soft smile. She didn't want to believe it either.

"Actually," Chris began, staring off at nothing for a moment as if he were remembering something, "I think you might be right, Phoebe. When Piper died, Wyatt told me that he would never let something like that happen to me or him. He said that the those who were powerful never had to suffer at the hands of others if they didn't want; he used to say that sometimes — no one can control the powerful."

He looked between Phoebe and her sisters. "Maybe the reason he wanted power so much was to make sure he'd never be a victim again."

"Yeah," Paige nodded. There was silence as they each tried to take it all in, to imagine it and fathom it. Phoebe knew she should feel some sort of triumph at having been able to put a few pieces of the puzzle together, but all she felt was a kind of dead weight in her. She felt the now familiar urge to check in on her baby nephew and assure herself that he was still an unharmed, innocent baby boy.

"So what do we do now?" Paige asked. "Where do we go from here?"

"We could try talking to Darryl and seeing if he —" Phoebe started to suggest. She never finished, however, as at that moment there was a swirl of orbs, and Leo appeared in the room alongside a second man.

His companion was tall and thin with curly dark hair and a small beard. He didn't wear Elder robes, yet something about his stature and the expression on his pale face reminded Phoebe of an Elder. "Ah, hey," Leo said hesitantly. "It's good that you're all here. This is Gideon. He's my mentor, and he runs Magic School. And he's an Edler."

"It is a pleasure to meet you all," Gideon greeted.

"What's Magic School?" Paige asked immediately.

"The only place where young witches can get proper magical training!" Gideon exclaimed, smiling at Paige.

"Gideon started the school when he realized that a lot of witches had no where to turn to learn their craft," Leo explained.

"And the Elders were okay with that?" Piper asked dryly.

"After a great deal of persuasion they were," Gideon said to Piper. There was a brief, awkward moment of silence before Leo spoke again.

"So, Gideon, this is Piper, and Paige, and Phoebe," he nodded at each of them, "and this is their whitelighter, Chris. I brought Gideon here because he and I both thought he would help in saving Wyatt."

"Perfect timing, then," Paige said. "We were just talking about an idea Phoebe had. Phoebes?"

But Phoebe didn't hear her sister. Her eyes were focused on Chris, whose expression had hardened considerably upon sight of Gideon, and he stood now with rigid posture, obviously extremely uncomfortable around Gideon.

"Phoebe?" said Leo, looking at her with concern. Phoebe snapped to attention.

"I, um, I was just . . . I was thinking maybe it wasn't a demon who turns Wyatt."

"Not a demon?" Gideon looked surprised. "What else would you imagine it to be?"

Thankfully, Paige began to explain. Phoebe looked back at Chris, who she saw was now keenly examining Gideon. It was clear that Chris knew Gideon from the future, and it was clear that Chris did _not_ like him. It suddenly seemed imperative that they get a chance to talk to Chris without Gideon present.

"What mortal would be able to get Wyatt away from us and keep him for long enough to hurt him that badly?" Leo asked the moment after Paige finished speaking.

"I was under the impression the boy already had a little power, as well," Gideon added. "If a mortal were to get a hold of him he would most likely be able to defend himself."

"It was just an idea," Phoebe said suddenly. "We really haven't given it much thought. We should probably sleep on it, huh? How about you go do Elder things and think about it and we'll do Charmed One things and think about it and we'll all meet up later? Sound good? Great! Thanks for stopping by!"

"I, ah, alright, then," Gideon looked rather confused, as did Leo, but Phoebe paid them no mind. She could feel Paige and Piper burning holes into her with inquisitive gazes, but they would just have to wait.

"It was nice to meet you, Gideon," Paige said. "You'll have to show me this Magic School sometime."

"I would love to," Gideon replied with a smile. "It was a pleasure to meet all of the Charmed Ones. I've always been a fan. Leo," he nodded at his friend and then, with the tiniest of glances at Chris, orbed away in a swirl of purple orbs.

"What's up?" Leo asked immediately, looking at Phoebe with a frown.

"Yeah, why'd you chase him away?" Paige asked, shifting where she sat.

"I just thought maybe the five of us should talk about a few things first," Phoebe said slowly, cautiously. She didn't want Chris running away.

"About what? We just talked," said Piper, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Is this about not trusting Gideon?" Leo sighed. "I know that you guys don't get along well with Elders, but Gideon is not your average Elder. He fought long and hard for Magic School because it was what he believed. He's helped teach generations of witches. He taught me, too! And he was in support of our marriage," he told Piper.

Before Phoebe could get a word in, Chris spoke. "I think we should involve as few people as possible in everything we do. We don't want Elders trying to get in the way."

"No one's going to _get in the way_, Chris," Leo said. "Gideon came to help. He doesn't want to see Wyatt turn evil anymore than we do."

Chris didn't say anything. "Do you know him?" Phoebe asked, her eyes tracing over her nephew's face and trying to find some answers in his locked jaw. "Do you know Gideon in the future?"

"I've met him," Chris dismissed, and to Phoebe's frustration she could find no clues in his expression. "But, look, does he know I'm from the future?"

"Yes," Leo nodded. "Is that a problem?"

"Ah . . . I, no, no, its not," Chris answered. There was a brief moment of silence in which Phoebe exchanged a confused and curious glance with Piper. "How about one of you try to talk to Darryl?" Chris suggested. "He might be able to help."

"I agree," nodded Paige. "I'll stop by the Station and see him." She stood up and stretched he arms over her head.

"Good. I'll see you all later, then."

He started to orb away, but stopped as Piper cried out, "wait!" He looked over at her with raised eyebrows.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"You don't have to go," Piper said.

"I don't really think there's anymore we can do for Wyatt today. If a demon attacks, just call me." Once more he tried to orb away and Piper stopped him.

"You could maybe stay for dinner . . . if you wanted. What do you like to eat? I could make that. I don't think you've ever eaten dinner with us before." The silence that fell for the next brief moment was both deafening and unbelievably awkward.

"It's cool," Chris shrugged. "I'm really not that hungry. Call if you need me." And before he could be stopped a third time, he orbed away.

"Damn it!" exclaimed Piper.

* * *

It had been three weeks.

Paige broke things off with Richard, something which he did not take well. The series of events that followed took the energy out of all of them, and eventually left both Paige and Phoebe without boyfriends and all of them rather exhausted.

They had seen more of Gideon and he had grown on Phoebe. He seemed to care so genuinely for the entire magical world, and that went far in his favor. He had taken them to Magic School, which had managed to completely entrance Paige.

Phoebe had gone on a spirit quest, one in which she had seen herself pregnant in the future, had seen a young Wyatt and a young Chris, and it had left her feeling warm and fuzzy inside, but that was about all. It didn't save Wyatt; it didn't change her lack of a relationship with Chris.

Chris only dropped in occasionally to discuss ideas with them, and his visits were brief despite Piper's best efforts to shove steak and mashed potatoes down his throat, having learned through pure persistence that they were his favorite meal. In fact, he showed his face less and less, and when he did he seemed worse and worse off.

Piper was distressed at the dark circles that they constantly saw under his eyes, but his lips were kept tightly sealed and they could get nothing from him. At long last, at exactly three weeks after the two days that had turned their lives upside down, they had finally decided to act.

They gathered in the attic, and when Paige had settled on the couch, Piper had been convinced that it wouldn't help to have her pacing, and Leo had been called to come to their kind-of intervention, Phoebe shouted out for Chris.

"Chris! We need you!" There was no response.

"Come on, kid!" Paige added. "We won't bite!"

"This is important!" Phoebe went on. "Chris! Chris!"

"Let Piper try," Leo suggested. "He'll come if she calls. She's the only one he likes." He could barely hide the bitterness from his tone of voice, and he certainly couldn't hide the feeling from hitting Phoebe like a ton of bricks.

"Chris!" Piper shouted. "Come here for a moment! We have to talk to you! Chris!"

He didn't come.

"You can try," said Paige, looking at Leo.

"He definitely won't come if I try," Leo said, shaking his head with disbelief at Paige's suggestion. "In fact, the reason he's not coming is probably because he can sense me here. I should leave."

"No!" Phoebe protested. "You need to be here. He needs you, too, Leo, even if he doesn't realize it yet." There was a brief moment of silence.

"Damn it, Chris, get down here!" Paige shouted. "Or, over here, depending where you are," she added thoughtfully. Chris still didn't show up.

"This is hopeless," Leo sighed.

"Stop being such a downer!" Paige protested. "Have a little faith. CHRIS!"

"Chris!" Phoebe yelled. "This is ridiculous! We need your help. You're our whitelighter! _Come on!_ Chris!"

To Phoebe's relief, a swirl of orbs finally appeared in the center of the attic, and a moment later Chris stood tiredly before them. The dark circles under his eyes were worse, and his face seemed almost sunken. He didn't look as if he'd been getting any sleep at all, and he probably hadn't been eating much, either.

"Hey," he greeted gruffly. "Sorry, I was a little busy. What's the matter?"

"You were a little busy?" Piper repeated. "Doing what?"

"Stuff," Chris shrugged carelessly. "What's the matter?"

"We just wanted to speak to you, actually," Phoebe said slowly, cautiously. "We haven't been seeing a lot of you lately, and we've been worried. Is everything okay?"

Chris sighed. "Everything is fine, Phoebe, really. You don't need to worry about me."

"I can't _not_ worry about you," Phoebe replied. Chris didn't respond.

"It isn't just about you, Chris," Leo said. "You came back in time to help save Wyatt. You can't do that on your own and neither can we. We all have to work together. You can't cut us out."

Chris let out a breath, closing his eyes for a moment and rolling his neck. "I'm not . . . _cutting you out_, I'm just — I've been dealing with some things, okay?" he glanced between each of them. "If you want to go after a demon or have a new theory about Wyatt or need my help, then I'm happy to do what I can."

"Well, then, can you have dinner with us?" Piper asked. "'Cause I need you for that."

"Not exactly what I had in mind," he replied hesitantly. "Look, everything is okay, right? You just called me to talk? Nothing has happened?"

"Nothing you don't already know about," Paige confirmed.

"Then, ah," he let out an awkward chuckle, "I guess there's something I need to talk to you about."

"What?" Leo asked immediately.

"I mean, actually, in private. I need to talk to Phoebe and Paige alone."

"What? Why?" asked Piper, concern dancing across her face.

"I can't — I can't tell you," Chris replied, not meeting her gaze. "I just really, _really_ need to talk to them alone. If you don't . . . mind." Piper glanced at Phoebe who only shook her head helplessly. She couldn't begin to guess what Chris had in mind.

"I guess so," Piper said slowly. "I'll just go . . . start dinner. Call me if you need me." She glanced at Chris again, but he determinedly did not look at her. She left the room. After another moment, Leo orbed away, leaving Chris alone with Paige and Phoebe.

"Okay, what's up?" Phoebe questioned straight away.

"Is there any chance of Piper and Leo, you know," he shrugged, and looked at the ceiling as he muttered, "getting back together any time soon?"

"What?" Paige frowned, making a face.

"Oh my god!" Phoebe exclaimed, understanding what Paige did not. How could they have all forgotten about that? "You need to be conceived, don't you?"

Chris winced slightly, murmuring, "Yeah, pretty much. I was kind of, ah, actually hoping maybe if I stayed away for a little while they would talk and naturally," he shrugged again. "But, obviously, that's not happening."

"Wow," breathed Paige, whistling. "Talk about high expectations."

"Okay, _not_ helping," Chris snapped at her.

"I'm just saying!" she held up her hands defensively.

"Maybe we should just tell them?" Phoebe suggested. "I'm sure they would do whatever they could."

"But how much could they do?" Paige asked doubtfully. "They'd definitely be hit by performance anxiety." Phoebe hadn't thought of that. God, they should have considered all this earlier.

"So what do we do?" she asked, looking back and forth between Paige and Chris.

"I don't know," Chris answered. "I was hoping one of you might have an idea." He looked at her hopefully. "I only have about a day or so."

"_What?_" Phoebe nearly shouted. "You wait until you have a _day or so_ to say anything to us? That doesn't leave very much time!"

Chris glared at her. "I wasn't really sure how to go about all this, okay? It's not easy."

"Are you sure about how much time you have?" Paige asked. "You might have more than you think."

"I've done all the calculations," Chris replied. "Trust me; I've spent hours at it." He shook his head sadly. "I have until tomorrow at midnight, if that."

Phoebe felt her heart constrict. Could they never catch a break?

"We could try a love potion," said Paige suddenly.

"That seems a little drastic," Phoebe replied doubtfully.

"Ah, no, it doesn't!" said Chris, his brow creased. "I don't think anything is drastic enough to outweigh the whole me-not-existing situation!"

"I'm on his side on that one," Paige agreed.

Phoebe didn't know what to say. She was inclined to argue against the idea of slipping her sister and brother-in-law a potion to manipulate them, but what choice did they have? Chris certainly hadn't left them with much time to develop an alternate plan.

"Maybe," Phoebe sighed, "_maybe_ we could try that, but —."

A loud crash interrupted her.

It was followed by another crash, a resounding thud, and Piper's harried cry of, "WYATT!" Alarmed, Paige grabbed Phoebe by the shoulder and orbed downstairs at the exact same time as Chris.

Piper had been thrown into the grandfather clock, and she was struggling to her feet in a half-dazed state as Leo appeared just in time to grab Wyatt and save him from the arrow of a —

"Darklighter!" Paige shouted in disbelief.

The man turned on her even as she spoke and aimed his bow at her; it missed her by an inch as Phoebe shoved her to the ground while Piper haphazardly tried to blast the darklighter but only managed to maim his shoulder.

Phoebe ran at the darklighter, knocking him to the ground. He sent a well-aimed kick at her stomach, however, and it took the breath out of her. She was on her feet in another moment, but it was plenty of time for the darklighter to grab his bow and aim another arrow at Leo, who, holding Wyatt, was crouched over Piper healing the gash on her forehead and her twisted wrist.

"NO!" Chris shouted, leaping into the fray with a furious wave of his hand. The darklighter went flying, slamming against the wall and falling motionless to the ground. Chris stared at him, before looking over at Leo and Piper, who was now slowly getting to her feet.

Paige and Phoebe stood, too, and everyone was breathing heavily as they all assessed the damage. "We so do _not_ need this right now," Paige complained, glaring at the darklighter.

"What did he want?" Phoebe asked.

Leo shook his head.

"We have no idea," Piper answered. "He appeared out of no where and nearly killed Wyatt," she explained, clutching her baby son to her. "Leo showed up just in time." Her words seemed to hang in the air, and Phoebe hoped perhaps they revealed Piper's buried affection for her estranged husband.

"Is he okay?" Chris asked. Everyone looked at Wyatt, blinking innocently at them from Piper's arms.

"He is for now," said Leo, reaching out a hand to run over the soft blonde locks.

"Hey, maybe it's a darklighter that goes after Wyatt! Maybe it's a darklighter that kidnaps him and tries to kill him!" Paige suggested eagerly. "Think about it! A darklighter would want to get rid of Wyatt so that he couldn't grow up to become a powerful whitelighter!"

"That does make sense," Phoebe agreed, her mind rolling over the idea. "But —"

"AH!" screamed Chris, his face an expression of agony, an arrow piercing his shoulder, before suddenly an explosion knocked Phoebe back against the wall and blinded her for a moment.

When the air cleared, it was to find that no one was seriously harmed, though Paige had the makings of a nasty bruise running the length of her face and another cut had appeared across Piper's forehead.

"What was _that_?" exclaimed Paige, pushing herself to her feet as Leo helped Piper to hers. "And please tell me it killed the darklighter."

"Where's Chris?" Piper asked immediately, panicked.

"What?" Leo frowned. He glanced around. He looked over at Phoebe, the same realization dawning in both their minds at the same moment: Chris was gone. Phoebe couldn't believe it. Her eyes roved over the mess that was the living room. He wasn't in sight.

"Chris!" Piper screamed out, clutching Wyatt to her so tightly that he started to cry. She didn't seem to notice. "Chris! CHRIS!"

"He's gone," Paige whispered with disbelief. "He — he's gone." She looked at Phoebe with wide eyes. "He's de —"

"_Don't_ say it!" Piper cut her off. "He's not; he's not."

"Where is he, then?" Paige asked, spreading her arms out as if to indicate the lack of his presence in the room.

"I don't know," Piper said, "but I know he's not dead. I would feel it if he was dead. I would. He's alive. The darklighter did something. All we have to do is figure out what and then we can save him. He's _not_ dead."

"We'll figure it out," Leo said determinedly, rubbing his hand up and down Piper's arm.

"We will, sweetie; I promise," Phoebe agreed. "I don't think he's dead either."

She met eyes with Paige. Obviously, Paige didn't feel the same.

An hour later and they weren't having any luck. They had moved up to the attic and were flipping through the _Book_ in hopes of finding something, but they hadn't been at all successful. Leo had gone to consult the other Elders and had come back empty handed.

"Maybe Gideon would know something?" Paige suggested. "Or maybe there's something at Magic School, a book or something that would have some information?"

"It's worth looking into," Leo nodded.

"Damn it!" Piper exclaimed, not appearing to have been paying attention to the conversation around her. She was still looking through the _Book_ and refused to stop, despite the agitation that was slowly swallowing her alive.

"Some help would be really helpful about now!" she shouted, stepping back from the _Book_. "Come on — anything?!" She stared up at the ceiling. "Do they get their kicks picking and choosing which times to help us out?" she asked her sisters angrily.

"Calm down, honey," Phoebe said soothingly. "We're going to figure this out."

"Come _on_, Grams!" Piper shouted again, ignoring Phoebe. "Mom? _Prue_? ANYONE?"

To everyone's obvious surprise, the pages of the _Book_ began to flip as if moved by an invisible hand, and they all stared with wide eyes as the pages slowed and settled to a stop. "What page is it open to?" Leo asked softly.

Piper took a step forward. "That doesn't even . . . this is NOT helpful!" she yelled up irritably at the ceiling.

"What is it?" Paige insisted.

"It's the To Heal a Heart spell," Piper finally answered, looking up at them with raised eyebrows. "That can't help us right now."

"Yeah," Phoebe said slowly, "but there's always a reason they lead us to a spell, right? Maybe this is the spell we need to find Chris."

"We can't even use this spell without summoning him first!" Piper exclaimed. "Not to mention the fact that he would hate us all even _more_ if we used this spell on him again."

"I don't think he would mind so much if we used it to save his life," said Paige.

"What happens if we use it without summoning him?" Leo asked curiously.

"It doesn't work?" Piper said, annoyed at his question. She took a calming breath, as if attempting to keep herself in check. "Look, maybe they meant the next spell over." She flipped the page. "Damn," she muttered.

"What's that spell?" asked Paige.

Piper looked up with an exasperated gleam in her eyes. "It's a spell to remove warts."

Phoebe held in a laugh. _That_ spell definitely would not be very helpful.

"Okay, ah, ew, but anyway, what if we try the To Heal a Heart spell?" Paige suggested. "Maybe it works slightly different if Chris isn't present, but whatever it is that is different is actually what we need to save him."

"I don't know," said Leo doubtfully. "Using a spell in a manner different than it instructs could lead us into a worse situation. . . ."

"Worse than your son dying of a darklighter's arrow all alone?" Piper spat angrily. And as if Leo's protest had worked the opposite effect than he intended, she declared, "Let's do it. I trust Grams, Mom, and Prue."

"I'm in," Paige nodded. They both glanced at Phoebe. It only took her a moment to decide.

"Okay," she agreed. Leo still looked skeptical, but he said nothing as they gathered around the _Book._ "Do you want to come with us?" she asked Leo suddenly. He took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

"No, someone needs to stay with Wyatt." That was reasonable enough to Phoebe, even if a small part of her thought perhaps Leo was afraid to go back into Chris's mind. She didn't have any time to think on it, however; as her sisters began to chant and she joined them.

"_Here our words, here our plea,_

_Across the sky, across the sea,_

_Reveal to us what must be known,_

_To understand thoughts all his own!"_

A second of uneasy silence followed, and then out of no where came the familiar and unpleasant sensations they'd felt before: the loud, roaring sound drowning out all others; the blur and swirl of colors across their vision; and finally the stomach-dropping abandonment in a silent blackness.

Phoebe immediately stood, looking around and seeing nothing but black, just as it had been earlier. "This isn't any different," she observed. "The spell worked the exact same way." She turned to her sisters, both of whom had stood. "Why would the spell say the person had to be present if it works just the same either way?"

"Maybe there's a twist we haven't seen yet," Paige said. "Maybe we're not even in Chris's mind. Maybe we're in Leo's or something. . . ."

"No," Piper shook her head. "The spell said you just have to focus on the mind of the person that you need to understand."

"Still," Phoebe said softly. An anxious feeling swept over her as she glanced nervously between her sisters. Maybe Leo had been right in warning them to be more cautious. Yet they couldn't sit back and do nothing when Chris was in trouble. . . .

Besides, when had the Charmed Ones ever acted in any manner that _wasn't_ reckless and rash?

"So . . . what do we do now?" Paige asked.

**TO BE CONTINUED . . .**

A/N: So I know I promised you a memory in this chapter, but as I said in the starting author's notes, I had to cut it out. This chapter was just getting too long and unruly. But the memory will kick off the next chapter, and it's a pretty emotional one -- you better have the tissue box ready. I know a lot of people are afraid that I will unnaturaly shove the memories into the story, but hopefully no one thinks that what I've chosen to do is unnatural. I'm not just putting more memories in because I like writing them (which I do), but because I honestly think the only way Chris and the Charmed Ones and Leo would be able to get through all those issues is if the CO and Leo really understood what Chris had gone through -- and he's not exactly big on talking about his feelings. Additionally, as you'll see in the next chapter, the memories are a major part of the Saving Wyatt plotline.

As always, I beg of you for a review! They are the butter to my bread, the icing to my cake, the sunshine to my day. Seriously: please review!


	11. Chapter 11

_A/N: Now how's that for a fast update? I think perhaps the memories tend to pour out of me so I was able to get this chapter finished faster. That, and it's the weekend and there's a small blizzard going on outside my house, so I don't have much to do :) As always, this story is AU after Prince Charming. And I own no rights of the Charmed universe!_

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"We call out his name, as always, and we try and think of him being alone and hurting," said Piper. "If we can get it right, it'll show us his memory of what happened and where he ended up," she said. Her voice was firm and her eyes glowed with resolve.

Phoebe still couldn't shake the fear that it was going to be a lot more difficult than that. What if they weren't in Chris's mind? What would they dredge up, then? Paige, however, didn't seem as worried.

"That's smart," she told Piper approvingly. "CHRIS!" she shouted. "Come on! Show me a lonely and dying CHRIS!"

"Chris!" Piper yelled, Phoebe joining her as she yelled again, "CHRIS!"

"Hey sweetie," said a voice, echoing through the darkness. All three sisters froze. "How are you holding up?" asked the voice.

"This doesn't sound like the memory we were looking for," Paige said, glancing around in anticipation of the blackness fading into the memory. "In fact, don't you think it kind of sounds like —?"

"Phoebe!" Piper exclaimed, her eyes going wide. Phoebe looked in the direction of her gaze and her heart nearly stopped in her chest for a moment as sure enough, there she stood, another her, a _future _her.

She was older, and her hair was long again, hanging down around her shoulders and held away from her face with a headband. She wore a black dress, black tights, and black high heel shoes, and her expression was somber.

"This is not the memory we need, whatever it is," Piper whispered, her eyes locked on future Phoebe. Even if it wasn't that which they sought, Phoebe couldn't help but be intrigued. This was the first memory they'd seen that involved her. Was it wrong to be curious? A voice whispered to her that it was, that Chris was in trouble and they needed to focus on that, but the voice was smothered as the rest of the memory began to appear.

Future Phoebe was sitting awkwardly on an unmade bed in a room that slowly took shape. It was the same room featured in the memory with five-year-old Chris, and Phoebe was sure it must be Chris's bedroom in the Manor. Even as she thought it, the darkness entirely disappeared and they were fully immersed in the memory.

Chris was there. He was on the ground, his back to the far wall and his head bent over and nearly between his knees, so that his face was shadowed. She knew it was him, though; it had to be him. The messy dark hair was the same.

He was a young teenager, if Phoebe had to guess. He was wearing black dress pants and a white button-up dress shirt. He'd rolled up the sleeves, and she could see polished black shoes kicked off and abandoned a few feet away.

"Chris, honey?" future Phoebe asked the young Chris again, her eyes roving over his face. Chris slowly looked up. The expression on his face almost broke Phoebe's heart. "Talk to me," said older Phoebe.

"There's nothing much to say," Chris said softly.

There was a brief moment of silence before Phoebe spoke again. "Have you . . . have you been eating lately?" she asked softly.

"Aunt Paige brought me and Wyatt some food earlier," he answered dully. "And Grandpa's actually something of an amateur cook, so there's that. . . ."

"I didn't ask if you had food," future Phoebe told him gently, "I asked if you'd been eating. You need to be taking care of yourself."

"I've been eating. Not really sleeping," he gave a bitter laugh, "but I've been eating. Don't worry about me."

"I can't _not_ worry about you, sweetheart," Phoebe told him, slowly slipping off the bed and coming to crouch before him on her knees. "I can't begin to imagine what you're going through right now." She paused. "Maybe it'd be helpful to talk about it?"

"I was talking a little to Penny earlier," he answered lifelessly. "She got into a fight with Aunt Paige about an hour after the service, though, and Aunt Paige dragged her home to yell at her in private."

"Then talk to me," said future Phoebe. She reached out a hand and pushed some of Chris's hair from his face. "You don't have to go through this alone." He didn't reply. She sighed, glancing up as if seeking heavenly assistance.

Looking in on the scene, Phoebe felt she could easily sympathize with the helplessness of her future self, even if she didn't exactly know what was going on at that moment. She didn't even know the emotions of her future self and Chris — apparently empathic powers didn't work on memories. Still, she could sympathize.

"What about your dad? Have you talked with him? Have you . . . have you seen him at all?"

"He patted me on the back at the service," Chris offered up quietly. "He left with Wyatt, though. I don't know where they are now. I guess my loving _dad_ figured I could deal with things by myself, but Wyatt needed his full attention." The bitterness in his tone was worse than that which Phoebe had heard earlier in Leo's tone.

"You're not by yourself," future Phoebe told him. "You've got me. Come on, Chris. Don't cut me out. What are you thinking right now? What are you feeling?" Chris looked up at her, and his eyes searched her face as if hoping to find salvation there.

"I just —" he began, his voice pained.

"Mommy?" both future Phoebe and Chris, as well as all three of the watching sisters, glanced across the room at the sound of the small voice. Phoebe's breath caught in her chest when she saw the little girl that stood in the doorway.

She was perhaps five or six and had long, dark brown hair and big, blue eyes. She wore a cute little black dress with white tights and Mary Jane shoes. She was adorable. "What's the matter, baby?" future Phoebe addressed the little girl.

"I think that's your daughter," Paige whispered to Phoebe.

Phoebe couldn't take her eyes off of the little girl.

"My tummy hurts," said the little girl. "I want to go home. Daddy took Coop and 'Lindy and Prudy out for cheer-up ice cream, but I just wanna go home."

"Okay, sweetie, just a minute," future Phoebe said, turning back to Chris.

"Chris," she started hesitantly. "Maybe you want to —?"

"Mummy," whined the little girl. "It _really_ hurts."

"Just one minute, Charlotte," Phoebe said, sending her daughter a soft smile. She looked at Chris again, her mind seeming to evaluate the situation.

"It's okay," he sighed, mustering up a tight smile for her. "Go. Take her home. No reason for her to be miserable with the rest of us."

"Maybe we could talk later?" future Phoebe asked hopefully as she stood.

"Yeah," said Chris. "Sure. Later."

"Okay, I'll talk to you soon," the older Phoebe said, starting to walk away and picking up her daughter. From where she stood in between her sisters, Phoebe watched on with unbelieving eyes. Her future self couldn't just leave! Chris _needed_ her. Whatever had happened, he was obviously hurting; she didn't need to be an Empath to see that.

How could her future self leave him all alone, especially after she'd just assured him that he _wasn't_ alone? He was barely more than a little kid! But future Phoebe, her adorable little daughter nestled in her arms, walked away, disappearing into the hallway.

"Poor Chris," Paige murmured, looking down at the lonely kid.

Slowly, the boy stood. He let out a shaky breath before crossing the room and slamming the door shut so fiercely that it knocked a baseball and two picture frames off a nearby shelf. He didn't seem to care. He sunk to the ground again, his back to the door this time.

He put his face in his hand, his elbow resting on his knee, and began to rock back and forth for a moment. Abruptly he leaned his head back against the door, his neck arching. His eyes landed on one of the picture frames that had fallen. He reached over and picked it up, his eyes scanning it.

"What's that a picture of?" Phoebe asked her sisters.

"Beats me," replied Paige. Piper only shook her head, her eyes not leaving Chris.

Suddenly the picture frame went flying, crashing against the wall. The glass broke. Chris didn't spare it a glance. He looked up at the ceiling. "How could you leave me?!" he shouted. "You were all I had! It's not fair!"

Tears were pooling in his eyes now. "Baby," Piper murmured.

"You can't just abandon me! You promised you'd always be there! You promised! And now you're gone! You can't just . . . you can't just," his face morphed from one of anger to one distorted with sadness, and the tears spilled out of his eyes as he began to shake.

"You can't just . . . you can't just. . . ." He was outright crying now, and he bit down on his fisted hand to stop himself from making any noise. Phoebe didn't know how long she stood there, watching him rock back and forth, silently sobbing. All she knew was that each moment that passed was another moment that shattered her.

She didn't even notice Paige walk hesitantly over to the picture frame that lay broken a few feet away from them until Paige said softly, "I think I know what's wrong." Piper and Phoebe both looked over at her. She nodded her head at them to come closer.

They did, and together they looked down at the picture that sat behind broken glass in the silver frame. It was a picture of an older Piper, laughing and smiling up at the camera, a slightly younger Chris wrapped up in her arms and staring up at her.

"I think his mom just died."

And as the words settled in the air, the memory began to disappear and the three of them were once more in the unending blackness, horror like an acidic weight inside them. They had asked to see Chris alone and hurting, and that's what they'd gotten. Phoebe could imagine how something like that would create the emotionally stunted adult Chris she knew.

It made her hate her future self, and she wondered if this was how Leo felt, too.

"That's not going to happen," Piper said suddenly, breaking the silence that had fallen over them. Her voice hung in the blackness. "We killed Amaymon. He was the one that killed me and we've killed him. I won't die. I won't leave Chris alone. That memory will never happen."

"Yeah," Phoebe nodded sympathetically, wrapping an arm around her sister's shoulders. "It's never going to happen, sweetie. You won't die, and I . . . I won't become the person that leaves him hurting and all alone like that."

"Your girl was cute, though," Paige said softly, giving her an encouraging smile.

"I think I have four children," Phoebe said. She had been going over it in her mind ever since that memory between Wyatt and Penny. The Charmed Ones had eight children, Wyatt had said. It looked as if Wyatt and Chris were Piper's only children, and Penny and her baby sister Pattie were Paige's only children.

That left Phoebe with four children. _"Daddy took Coop and 'Lindy and Prudy out for cheer-up ice cream, but I just wanna go home. . . ." _A part of Phoebe felt guilt for being so immersed in the thoughts of her own children and her own future. It was selfish in a way.

"We need to be more specific," Piper announced in a business-like tone, her emotions kept tightly reeled in. "When you shout for Chris, think of a darklighter's arrow piercing him."

"Let's hope _that_ hasn't ever happened before," Paige mumbled. Phoebe only nodded.

"Chris!" Piper shouted. "CHRIS!" she and Paige both yelled out. "Chri —!"

"Wait!" Phoebe said suddenly.

"What?" Piper frowned, Paige looking rather concerned as well.

"I —," Phoebe's voice faltered, "I — look, I know we need to focus on Chris right now, but don't you think maybe while we're here we should try and find out a little more information about the future? You know, something that could help us in saving Wyatt and saving our relationship with Chris but something that he himself refuses to tell us?"

She spoke very quickly, as if it was imperative she get it all out in one breath.

"My son is _dying_," Piper replied, sounding almost angry.

"I know! I know!" Phoebe immediately defended. "But he isn't dead yet — we're in his mind, aren't we? He has to be alive for that. And . . . who knows, maybe the key to saving Wyatt is in Chris's own memories but he just doesn't realize it? Like . . . take Gideon, for instance."

"What about Gideon?" Paige frowned.

"Chris hates him," Phoebe replied.

"What?"

Phoebe nodded in confirmation. "I might not be able to get a read on Chris's emotions, but I can still tell when a person is extremely uncomfortable and doesn't like someone, and when Leo first introduced us to Gideon — Chris was _not_ happy."

"So Chris doesn't like Gideon," Piper said, "how does that help us save Wyatt? And, more pressingly, how does that help us save Chris?"

"I . . . I . . . don't know, but I just think we should take advantage of the situation."

"Are you sure you don't just want to see more of your kids?" Paige raised an eyebrow at her, a slight smirk playing across her face.

"I do — I do want to see them, but that's not the only reason I think maybe we should . . . just try to find a few more memories." It was silent for a moment as Piper seemed to let Phoebe's suggestion roll through her mind.

"Phoebe . . . I can't risk it," Piper said, her voice strung with distress. "Once we save him, we can always come back into his mind."

"Do you really think he'd let us?" Phoebe asked. "He won't die, sweetie, I promise," she assured. The tiniest bit of doubt trickled down the back of her own mind; she knew Chris was doubly in danger at this point, what with a darkligher's arrow in his shoulder and the whole matter of his existence in question. Still, the subject of Gideon had been bugging her.

"How about we think of a darklighter's arrow hitting him," began Paige, "and if we find the right memory and it looks like Chris might have some time, we can try looking at another memory before going to his rescue?"

"Fine," Piper agreed immediately. "That works for me."

"Chris!" Paige shouted.

"Chris!" Piper bellowed, "Chris! CHRIS!"

Phoebe, having lost the argument two to one, joined in yelling, "Chris!" and silently adding, _"darklighter!"_

Someone was sniffling. It wasn't a very loud sound, but it was amplified throughout the echoing darkness, and all three sisters were silent as the sound of a little girl taking a few quick, shallow, gasping breaths, as if on the verge of tears, could be heard ringing in the darkness.

"Here we go!" muttered Paige.

A rusted, broke-down car appeared before them. It had once been red, but the paint was peeling and faded. There was a large dent in the side, the back end had certainly seen better days, and there was no passenger side door.

The sniffling continued.

"Is anyone else a little confused?" whispered Paige.

The little girl appeared out of no where, hunched up in the passenger seat of the car, her knees pulled tightly to her chest, her dark brown hair falling in front of her face as she rocked back and forth sniffling and crying. The Charmed Ones stared at her, barely aware of the blackness disappearing and turning into an old junkyard filled with similarly broken-down, lifeless cars, all strangely lit by the setting sun.

"How old do you think she is?" Phoebe asked, speaking at a whisper as Paige had, simply because it seemed like the thing to do.

"Eight, nine, ten at the oldest," Piper replied softly.

"And what does she have to do with Chris being hit by that darklighter and then disappearing?" added Paige.

No one answered her. The little girl wore tennis shoes that were muddy and untied, a cutesy jean skirt and a bright pink but rather soiled jacket. Her small, thin legs were covered by white tights, but the tights were streaked with dirt and on her left knee there was a huge rip, revealing a nasty cut that was crusted with dried blood.

Orbs appeared a few feet away. The little girl gasped in fear, her brown eyes wide and terrified for an instant. Then the orbs materialized into Chris, looking much the same as when he had first introduced himself to the Charmed Ones. The little girl tumbled from the old car and ran at him.

"Hey, hey, it's all right," he greeted gently as she clung to him, pressing her face into his stomach as her small arms wrapped around him. He had been carrying some sort of package, and he placed it down on the ground as he knelt to her height. She wrapped her arms around his neck, then, mashing her face into his chest, and he hugged her tightly in return, running a hand over her hair and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

"It's okay," he repeated. "It's okay."

"This isn't right," Piper said, shaking her head. "This isn't the memory we need."

"You mean he's been hit by a darklighter's arrow _before_?" asked Paige. "Great! That's just great!"

"You can't leave me," the little girl told Chris, not breaking her embrace, "you can't leave me, or he'll come and kill me!"

"No, no, he won't," Chris assured her softly. "I had to go get something, but I'm here now, and I'll keep you safe, okay? He won't get you. He won't."

"Promise me you won't leave again," she cried to him.

"It's going to be okay," he murmured into her hair, running his hand over it again.

"Whatever is going on," Phoebe said, "it's not good."

"Inside Chris's mind, is it _ever_ good?" Paige replied.

Even as she spoke, purple orbs appeared. With speed Phoebe doubted she could imitate, Chris stood and shoved the little girl backwards, almost into the car, then waved his hand and sent a bent metal pipe that had been laying a few yards away flying at the orbs.

When the orbs turned into Gideon, looking much the same as he did in their time, he easily deflected the pipe. Chris relaxed, and the tension eased slightly out of his shoulders, his stance softening. The little girl came up from behind him and wrapped her thin, dirty arms around his waist, her face peeking out from behind him at Gideon.

"Phoebe!" Piper yelled, turning on her sister angrily.

"I swear I didn't think of Gideon," Phoebe instantly defended. Piper only glared in reply.

"I am glad to see you alive and well," Gideon told Chris. "Both of you," he nodded at the little girl. Chris didn't response, and Gideon let out a sigh. "I came here to ask what your next move will be."

"My next move or the Resistance's next move?" asked Chris.

"I was under the impression they were one in the same," Gideon said, his voice calm and emotionless. He raised his eyebrows as if in question.

"This might not be the right memory," said Paige, "but it's got me hooked."

"Right now, I'm doing what I have to do to keep Prue safe," Chris replied. "If you'd like to help the Resistance, Hadley Jamison is in charge right now. Talk to him." He didn't show any more emotions than Gideon, and now that she got a closer look at him, Phoebe was upset to see he didn't look any better than the little girl.

His hair was rather matted and dirty, and she doubted he had showered recently. He was thin, way too thin, and it made him appear wiry, sharpened his jaw line, and stretched the skin tightly over the bridge of his nose and his collar bone in a sickening way. Seeing him like that made something in Phoebe twist painfully.

"Prudence is your top priority, then?" Gideon questioned, his eyes darting to the half-hidden little girl. Phoebe realized, as a part of her had suspected, that the little girl must be her daughter, one of her four children. Her heart nearly burst. As if Chris's condition wasn't bad enough, to see that little girl so dirty, bloody and afraid was worse than anything.

"Yes," Chris answered coldly.

"And do you think that a . . . _wise_ priority?" Gideon asked slowly. Phoebe couldn't believe he had just asked that. How could she _not_ be a priority? She was his family!

Chris scoffed, glancing away from Gideon for a moment and then looking back at him with a contemptuous gaze. "Look, I know you and the benevolent Elders are all about helping the Resistance, but so far, you've done nothing," Chris spat bluntly. "And honestly, tailing me and trying to give me advice on what to do when _this_ little girl is the _only _family I have left — that isn't helping."

Phoebe felt a surge of pride for Chris.

"You have your father," Gideon told him. "Leo is still alive."

Chris sneered, "like I said: Prue is all I have left, and until she's safe, I'm putting all my focus on _making _her safe." There was a tense moment of silence, until finally, sighing, Gideon spoke again.

"There are not many Elders left, Chris. You know that. Your brother has nearly destroyed us. Those of us that remain, however, want to help. We have stayed hidden as of late in order to wait until the opportune moment to do what we deem most important, and we believe that moment has arrived."

"The moment to do what?" asked Chris skeptically.

"It is time to, and it is unavoidable that we must, eliminate Wyatt. He cannot be allowed to continue to terrorize the magical and non-magical communities."

Somehow, despite knowing all the evil Wyatt would do, all the people he would kill and horrors he would commit, Phoebe's gut still clenched at the thought of her nephew dying. She couldn't separate the image of the baby boy she loved so dearly with the thought of the merciless killer he would become.

"Well," Chris nodded his head, scorn still etched into his features, "as helpful as that idea is, the rest of the world has already figured that one out. We're working on it." He glared at Gideon as if daring him to go on.

"Actually," Gideon took up the challenge, "it seems to me that you are not doing a great deal at all." He paused, saying softly, "I understand that Wyatt is your brother." He paused a second time, then said passionately, "you _cannot_ let that deter you, Chris!" Fervor embedded itself in his voice. "You must act!"

Chris took an angry step forward. "I _am_ fighting Wyatt!"

"As I recall, up until about two weeks ago you were still living with your brother at the Manor," Gideon said, almost _accused_. "How is that fighting? He killed your cousins and your uncles; he openly came out as evil with a legion of demons behind him. He decimated the Elders and the whitelighter community. He killed your own aunt right before your very eyes, and yet you lived with him, under him! You _must_ fight back!"

"I lived with him," yelled Chris, his eyes flashing, "to keep my aunt Paige alive! You might not understand this considering you're an Elder and you don't _have_ any family, but if there was a chance to save her life, I couldn't _not_ take it! I did what I had to do: Wyatt promised to leave her alone if I did not resist him."

"So you let him control you," said Gideon.

"So I fought back with the Resistance in secret! Not everything is a show, Gideon," Chris snarled, "that's something else you Elders need to learn."

"Do not confuse your feelings for your father with your feelings for the Elders, Chris," Gideon reprimanded, his voice swirling with anger.

Chris only scoffed again. "Why not? You're all the same."

Again, there was silence edged with anxiety, the tension so thick it was almost visible swirling around them. Phoebe was trying to soak it all in, to understand every word they both spoke, but it was too much; it was information overload.

She understand enough, though, to realize that if Chris saw Wyatt murder his aunt and then made a deal with Wyatt to save his aunt Paige, that mean the aunt who Wyatt murdered was . . . her.

Wyatt would kill her, right in front of Chris.

Somewhere in his head, in the very place they were right then, there was a memory of Wyatt killing her. Phoebe suddenly felt sick, and she wished she hadn't eaten breakfast.

Gideon sighed. "How do you plan to protect Prue? Perhaps we can help."

"I've got it, thanks," snapped Chris in reply, and as if to assure both Gideon and himself of the fact, Chris reached behind his back and pressed the little girl still closer to him.

"If the Elders were to care for her, Chris," Gideon said, "then you would be free to do what you must in the fight against Wyatt. He is powerful, there is no doubt of that, but you are immensely powerful as well. You are a great asset to our cause.

"Let me take Prue. The Elders will look after her."

"No!" the little girl exclaimed suddenly. "I want to stay with Chris."

"My dear child," Gideon began gently, bending down to her height.

"Lottie said that if we found Chris," Prue went on, her voice trembling, "then he would take care of us. Lottie said Chris was the only one who could protect us. And Lottie's right about everything. . . ."

"Lottie?" Gideon asked, glancing up at Chris.

"She means her sister Charlotte."

Phoebe's mind immediately flashed back to the memory they'd seen earlier, the memory of young teenager Chris after his mother's funeral. Her future self had left Chris to take care of her five or six-year-old daughter, a little girl she'd called Charlotte. _Charlotte._

"And where is Charlotte?" Gideon questioned. He looked at Prue. "Where is Lottie?"

The little girl didn't respond but only pressed her face into Chris's back. "You know where she is," Chris replied angrily to Gideon. "She's dead."

"Wyatt killed her," Gideon said, straightening up.

"Yes," replied Chris with gritted teeth.

Phoebe wished she didn't have to see this, didn't have to _hear_ this. Chris was right: she didn't want to know what was in his head.

"So you were unable to save her?" Gideon asked, and his point was clear. Chris didn't respond, but the look on his face, the expression of utter disdain, was one with which Phoebe was terribly familiar. "Be reasonable, Chris. We can care for her as you cannot."

"Her father was taking care of her, actually," Chris said sharply. "He was taking care of her and Charlotte, but then Wyatt found them, and I could only come in time to save Prue." He took a menacing step towards Gideon, Prue trailing behind and gripping his right arm tightly to her. "I'm not going to make the mistake of letting _anyone_ else take care of her again. Do you hear me?"

There was a silent battle of wills as the two stared at one another. Finally, Gideon gave in. "Very well. If and when you need our help, you need only call. We are ready to do our part to end the reign of Wyatt Halliwell."

Chris nodded stiffly, and a moment later, with reluctance, Gideon orbed away.

Chris stood rigidly for a moment longer, and then he turned around and kneeled on the ground to embrace Prue again. "What are we gonna do, Chris?" she asked him softly. "Mommy and Daddy promised they'd always take care of me, but now they're gone, and Lottie's gone and, and, and," she hiccoughed, "everybody's gone."

"Hey, hey," he said, wiping away the tears that had begun to fall down her dirty cheeks. "You've still got me, right? And I'm not such bad company, am I?" She shook her head quickly.

"I miss my mommy and daddy, though, and Lottie, too," Prue whispered tearfully.

"I miss my mom, too," Chris told her. "She died years ago, when you were just a little baby, but I still miss her every day. But you know what, though; she didn't really leave me. She's still with me now. She's right here with me — with us." Prue glanced around as if hoping to catch a glimpse.

"I don't see her," she announced.

Chris gave a soft smile, and it tugged on Phoebe's heart. "You can't see her. She's not here with us like that. She's here in spirit, watching over us, just like your mom is. You know how I know?" Prue shook her head. "I know because a few months after my mom died, I was so sad and alone, and I was so angry, and then someone came to me, and she told me that my mom loved me very much and that she would never really leave me."

"Who was it?" Prue asked.

"It was our aunt Prue. The woman you were named after," Chris told her softly. "She came as an angel, and she told me that she'd seen my mom, and she'd talked to her, and she promised me that my mom was still taking care of me, even if I couldn't see her.

"And you know what I think?" he asked Prue.

"What?" she murmured, sniffling.

"I think that your mom is watching over you, too. I bet right now, Piper and Phoebe Halliwell are watching us," he said. He hugged her a little closer. "I promise you, Prue Halliwell, you are _never_ alone."

Phoebe hadn't even realized she was crying. She glanced over to see that both Paige and Piper had begun to tear up, too. She reached over and linked arms with Piper, even as Paige pressed a little closer to Piper.

None of them even noticed the dark orbs that appeared a several feet off, not until Prue let out a piercing scream of fear. Chris whirled around just in time for the arrow to pierce his arm. The darklighter who had appeared swore and then put another arrow to his bow.

Chris didn't waste a moment. "Get in the car, Prue," he directed, even as he sent a rusted tire flying at the darklighter, who threw himself to the ground to dodge the tire. Quickly, biting down on his lip, Chris tore the arrow out of his arm. He didn't even cry out. Instead, he orbed away to miss another arrow the darklighter managed to fire.

He reappeared in a heap on the ground a few feet away, clutching his arm, his face agonized. Orbing in that condition couldn't have been easy.

"My god," Piper murmured.

The darklighter raised another arrow. "You'll die now, whitelighter," he said, his voice thick and dark in a tone all those who were evil seemed to possess. Chris waved his good arm through the air furiously and the darklighter was knocked off his feet in surprise. Chris bowed his head for a moment and then pushed himself to his feet, biting his lip so hard a drop of blood trickled down his chin.

He stood to his full height, glaring down at the dazed darklighter. Then he lifted the same metal pipe he'd thrown at Gideon earlier into the air and directed it straight at the heart of the darklighter. The dark-haired, dark-cloaked man disappeared in a quick explosion, and the only sound that remained was Chris's ragged breathing.

He fell to his knees, pain gleaming in his eyes. Prue rushed from the car to him. "Chris, no, no, no," she cried out. "Don't die!" she shouted. "Everybody always dies!"

Phoebe couldn't believe this was all happening. They had asked to see Chris struck by a darklighter's arrow, and that was exactly what they had just seen. And now they saw her daughter, her last remaining child, a girl who seemed irrevocably scarred, crying and clutching at a dying Chris.

"Its okay, Prue," Chris said, rasping. "I'm okay. I'll be okay." The little girl clutched his face and pressed it to her chest, as if hoping that holding him close would keep him from dying. Phoebe got a look at the little backpack Prue wore and saw that it was a Lion King backpack complete with a picture of Simba the lion cub.

It seemed out of place in it all.

"LEO!" Chris shouted out suddenly. "Leo, I need your help! LEO!"

"Come on, Leo," murmured Piper, her eyes locked on her son, as if she didn't know how this would all turn out. Chris survived; Phoebe knew that, they all knew that. Still, watching it play out, the assurance that Chris had to survive to come back in time didn't provide much comfort.

"DAD!" Chris yelled out, his voice cracking.

Orbs appeared, and for the briefest instant Phoebe felt relief. Then she realized the orbs were dark. Her breath caught in her chest as the dark orbs materialized into a tall man with messy, dark blonde curls. She recognized him. He was older than the last memory they had seen him in, but she knew him nonetheless.

It was Wyatt.

Prue's eyes went wide with horror, and she stood frozen clutching Chris.

"Honestly, little brother," said Wyatt, "you're pathetic."

"Don't you have anything better to do," Chris replied, his breath coming short, "than follow me around?" He glared up at Wyatt, who stood proudly with his hands linked behind his back.

"If you would rather die, I can leave," Wyatt replied coldly. "Or are you under the impression that Leo will actually come? Really, Chris, I thought I knew you better. Although I appreciate your temporary naivety. It allowed me to track you."

He started towards Chris. Prue let out a squeal of terror, and Chris reached out his good arm and pushed her back, trying to stand as if to block her off from Wyatt. "Don't touch her," he told Wyatt threateningly.

"I've no interest in harming her," Wyatt dismissed. "I always said three of the Charmed Ones' children should take up the mantle. If you so wish, she can be the third. She is, after all, the only candidate left." He took another step towards Chris, reaching out his arm.

He let out a stream of curses as a small explosion seared across his arm, leaving a nasty burn. Prue stood, still petrified, with her hands lifted in front her of her. She had just attacked Wyatt. Phoebe couldn't believe it.

Wyatt looked at Prue with the utmost contempt. "You little —!" he began furiously.

"Back off!" Chris shouted, stopping Wyatt in his tracks. "You just scared her," he said slowly. "The last few times she's seen you, it's been to see you kill the people trying to protect her."

"Maybe people should stop trying to protect her, then," Wyatt said, his eyes flashing.

Chris only glared at him. He had begun to sweat profusely, and his face had paled considerably. Wyatt sighed. "You and your heroics," he muttered. He glanced at Prue. "I'm not going to kill my brother," he told her patronizingly. He then extended his arm towards Chris once more. Prue whimpered.

And Wyatt started to heal Chris.

"Is he . . . ?" Paige began in surprise.

"I think he is," Phoebe answered. How could Wyatt kill off his cousins, his aunts, his uncles, how could he take over the world and became a merciless killer, only to use the power to heal to save his brother?

"Aunt Paige always said in some twisted way you still loved me," Chris told Wyatt as his brother finished healing him. "I'm touched," he spat.

Wyatt gave a grim, cutting smile. "Does this mean you'll stop being a fool and come home with me?"

"Did you send the darklighter nearly to kill me in order to then save me?" Chris replied.

"Little brother, if you really think —"

"I'm not going back with you, Wyatt," Chris cut in angrily, stepping away from Wyatt. Prue huddled behind him, her little arms wrapped around his waist once more. "I will never fight with you."

"I don't _need_ you," Wyatt snarled angrily. Chris opened his mouth to retort, only to stop mid-breath as demons appeared, one after another, in a circle around them. Wyatt took a step towards Chris again, starting to close the gap Chris had just created between them. "If you insist upon it, I _will_ kill you."

"Wyatt," Piper whispered, and Phoebe knew that if her own heart was breaking from seeing Wyatt turned so evil, it could be nothing to what Piper was feeling at that moment.

"I told you when I first learned the truth of Penny's death that I would never join your side, and I never will," Chris told him furiously. "There is no way you can change my mind."

"Are you sure about that?" Wyatt asked casually.

And as if Wyatt had given some sort of sign, one of the demons threw a fireball. It wasn't meant for Chris, however, but for Prue. Phoebe had to resist the urge to jump into the action. There was nothing she could do. But there wasn't need for her to do anything. Quick as a dart, Chris spun around and pulled Prue out of the line of fire, the fireball instead smacking into his lower back and throwing him to the ground.

"CHRIS!" Prue screamed.

Another demon brought a fireball into his hand and held up his arm as if to fire, but before he could send it spiraling at Chris, Wyatt blew him up. One second the demon was there, about to kill Chris, the next he was nothing but a wisp of smoke. Wyatt took a step towards Chris even as Chris began to orb away.

The memory ended abruptly, and the darkness that appeared around the sisters came so suddenly Phoebe hardly knew what was happening. The final words that Chris must have heard before he orbed away echoed through the darkness as the last remnant of the memory: "Not Chris," Wyatt told the demons, "_never_ Chris."

For a few moments, it was as if Phoebe was stuck in limbo. She couldn't move, she couldn't think, she simply couldn't kick herself into gear. Her mind was whirling too fast to allow her to process anything. She simply stood in the darkness, reeling over the memory and it's sudden end.

"I can't believe Wyatt turns that evil," Piper murmured finally, ending the silence. "I know he turns evil, we've seen proof of that before," she whispered, "but every time I think I know how evil he turns, we see a memory that makes it worse. . . ."

"I know," Paige whispered. There was another minute of silence.

"I can't see any more memories," Piper said softly. She looked up at Phoebe. "I just can't see any more. I can't take it. Besides, we need to figure out how to save Chris. That's it. I can't stand to see any more."

Phoebe understood. She wasn't sure her heart could take any more either. But how could they find the one memory they needed? Who knew if Chris had been hit by a darklighter's arrow numerous times in his youth? Judging by what they had seen so far, that wasn't an unrealistic assumption to make.

"We just," Paige began, "have to be really, _really_ specific. You know?" Phoebe nodded. "Maybe if we —?" She stopped as a sudden light broke through the darkness. It was as if a wall had appeared in the darkness, one that was bright and blinding. It disappeared, then reappeared, then disappeared, nearly blinding the sisters.

"What's going on?" Piper asked. Phoebe shook her head. At long last, the rapid flashes stopped but the square of light remained. It was no longer simply a square of light, however, but was like a television screen, and looking at it they could see a ghostly street, completely cold and empty.

"**What the hell?"**

All three sisters spun around in surprise. The voice that had spoken was most definitely Chris, but it had been loud and overpowering, echoing through the darkness. Chris himself was no where to be seen. "This isn't a memory . . ." murmured Paige warily.

The screen changed, it was rapidly changing, in fact, and the sisters could see down the street. It was as if they were looking through someone else's eyes. _Through someone else's eyes_, Phoebe thought, an idea beginning to form in her mind. But they couldn't be . . . !

"**This is an alternate plane . . . if I remember right . . . Aunt Paige said the ghostly plane. . . . But what the hell am I doing here? The darklighter . . . explosion . . . was it meant for Leo, Wyatt, or me?"**

Paige turned to her sisters. "Okay, so raise your hand if you have _any_ idea what's going on?" Paige asked, looking back and forth between her sisters in alarm.

"**I don't have time for this!"**

"I think," Phoebe began slowly, "I know what happens if you say the To Heal a Heart spell without having the person present."

"Leo said that regularly the spell puts the person into a deep, dreamless sleep," Piper said, and it was clear she was on the same line of thought.

"But if they're not present," Phoebe continued, "maybe it doesn't."

"Wait, wait," Paige interrupted. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying we're in Chris's mind," Phoebe answered, "and he just woke up."

**To Be Continued . . . **

A/N: I hit you with a lot in that chapter, and I hope it wasn't information overload. All of the things that the Charmed Ones saw will be explained in more detail in later chapters, as someone gets Chris to start explaining a few things. As for what happens now that Chris has woken up and they're inside his head, well, you'll just have to wait and see! I will try and update quickly.

How about as reward for getting this chaper out so quickly, you leave a review? You know how I love reviews! All authors do. :)


	12. Chapter 12

_A/N: And I present Chapter Twelve. This one was a pretty difficult one to tackle, but I was determined to get it over with, so I ended up getting it finished faster than I'd thought. As always, I'll now remind you that this story is AU after "Prince Charming" and that I own no rights to anything Charmed; I am merely a humble fan writing for fun. Enjoy!_

_

* * *

_Leo sighed. The other Elders were calling him, but he couldn't very well leave Wyatt all by himself. Yet how could he ignore the Elders? Not for the first time, he questioned whether he was right to become an Elder in the first place. It caused so many conflicts. At the time, he had done it without hesitance, despite the state in which Piper had been.

When Piper had told him she needed to be away from him, that she needed to distance herself from him if ever she was to move on, that had been the first time the full magnitude of what he'd done hit him. He wasn't just leaving Piper and Wyatt and the sisters behind. He was leaving them behind to live their lives without him. What if Piper married someone else? What if she had children with someone else?

Was it selfish to hate the very idea?

No one ever said he was perfect, Elder or not. He closed his eyes, leaning back in the chair and rubbing his temples with his thumbs.

And then everything with Chris had happened. If Chris hadn't come to the past, Leo never would have taken charge with the Titan situation, he never would have become an Elder, and he and Piper would have stayed together. But then Chris said that Leo became an Elder when he was three. So was it his destiny to become an Elder?

But what about his destiny with Piper?

"You look awfully stressed for an Elder," said a slick voice.

Leo's eyes popped open and he jumped from the rocking chair to his feet, but it was too late. She had already sent a force field spiraling at him, and the last thing he remembered was slamming into the wall of the nursery.

She stared at his unconscious body. Honestly, no wonder someone was able to take the baby and turn him evil if this was the sort of protection the child had. She turned away from the motionless Elder and turned to the little blonde boy staring up at her from his crib.

She stepped towards him and a blue force field came out. She chuckled. "Now, now, Wyatt, why would you need to protect yourself against me? I mean no harm. Put it down, precious boy. We've met before, you and I, with Mommy and Chris. Put it down, sweet boy."

The force field remained up. She didn't bother to baby talk him any longer. It wasn't her style anyway. She wouldn't cater to a baby. She lifted up her own force field, and with practiced ease she slammed it into his. His field was stronger than she had expected, but it was not strong enough to resist hers.

After a minute, his disappeared. Wyatt began to cry. The Elder didn't move. The Charmed Ones were no where to be seen. She lifted the crying, wiggling boy into her arms and held him tightly. "There, there, don't worry; you and I are going to have a _very_ good time getting to know one another."

She kissed the top of his head and then, smirking triumphantly to herself, Salome shimmered away with Wyatt in her arms.

* * *

"Is there any chance we can communicate with him?" asked Paige, glancing around as if hoping for some sort of instructions. "Maybe make him hear us speak, so he knows we're in his head?"

"Wouldn't he have already heard us?" Piper asked. Phoebe didn't know what to think. She stared out of the large screen, out of Chris's eyes, and tried to get her own mind to settle down. How did they always wind up in these crazy situations? Surely this didn't happen to all witches.

"**Got to get out . . . find someone dying . . . if Aunt Paige was right . . . damn shoulder, you think I'd be used to it by now. . . ."**

Phoebe let the thoughts wash over her. They'd been in Chris's mind for nearly four or five minutes, and as he walked down the street his thoughts were strange and scattered and made very little sense. They could be heard loud and clear, however, as if they were being projected through his head on a loudspeaker.

"This is like reading a stream of consciousness book," Paige declared suddenly. "It's like our own Wiccan version of _Catcher in the Rye_."

"**Get back to Leo . . . what would Bianca say . . . ? Maybe if I go to the house . . . darklighter will be waiting there . . . what are the chances he was sent from the future . . . ? . . . Should have eaten something earlier. . . ."**

"His thoughts are kind of random," Paige observed. It seemed she was the only one not entirely thrown off by their situation.

"I'd imagine most people's thoughts are," Phoebe replied. "What if we try shouting for him?" she suggested. "You know, to see if we can communicate with him, like you said?"

Paige nodded. "I think it's worth a shot. CHRIS! CHRIS!" Phoebe joined in with her, even yelling, "Chris, can you hear us? Chris!"

But there was no response. His scattered stream of thoughts carried on as if they weren't there.

"**Back to the manor, go back to the manor . . . could use some of Mom's mashed potatoes right now . . . what would Wyatt say if he could see this?"**

And suddenly, Wyatt was standing right next to them. Phoebe's eyes went wide with surprise. His hair was the same dark blonde unruly curls it had been in the last memory they'd seen, and he even wore the same black t-shirt. He was standing as a three dimensional cut-out in the darkness.

"You're pathetic, little brother," he declared. "_Pathetic_."

Then as quickly as he'd appeared, he disappeared. The sisters were left alone in the darkness with nothing but the words of Chris's jumbled thoughts and the screen of vision showing the ghostly street.

"**Jackass . . . damn shoulder . . . fucking darklighters . . . it's all Leo's fault. . . ."**

"We've got to do something," Piper finally said softly. "We can't just sit here in his head while he wanders around the ghostly plane with a darklighter's arrow in his shoulder. And obviously he can't hear us, whether we shout or not."

"Are we sure he's in the ghostly plane?" asked Paige.

"It's what he keeps mentioning," Piper replied.

"He keeps saying it alongside your name, actually," Phoebe added. "It sounds like you told him about the ghostly plane or something." Paige didn't reply. It didn't make any sense. There was no way it _could_ make sense. Leo had warned them the very first time they'd come back from viewing Chris's memories that a person's mind was a complicated thing.

Did they really have to experience it first hand?

"What if we call up a memory," Piper said slowly, as if the thought was still forming in her mind.

"**He was after Leo . . . he must have been after Leo . . . was he hired? . . . Must have been hired. . . ."**

"What do you mean?" Phoebe asked her sister. It was getting harder and harder to concentrate on the task at hand and discussion with her sisters when Chris was thinking angrily to himself and, unintentionally, speaking very loudly to them.

"What if we bring out a memory like we've done before?" said Piper. "He won't be unconscious from the spell so he'll relive the memory with us, right? Maybe if we can get to the right memory, we can lead him to realize that we're here."

"He is a smart kid," Paige said, apparently agreeing with the idea.

"He didn't notice the earlier memories," pointed out Phoebe.

"I think he was knocked out from whatever the darklighter did to him," Paige countered. Phoebe nodded. That did make sense.

"**. . . Feeling light . . . probably not a good sign . . . need to talk to Paige and Phoebe again. . . . Losing strength . . . maybe at the Manor I can get the herbal tea Macy Crane used to use . . . ? . . . And food, too . . . I'm hungry. . . ."**

"Alright, so let's try it," Piper said, taking a deep breath as though to prepare herself. Paige nodded her head resolutely.

"Wait, but what memory are we going to pull up?" Phoebe asked. "What memory could possibly clue him in?" There was a brief moment of silence as both Paige and Piper looked rather frustrated. They weren't getting anywhere at this rate.

Suddenly Chris's thoughts exploded through his head, nearly sending the sisters reeling.

"**DAMN!"**

The view out of his eyes suddenly began to change at a rapid pace and as if they were watching a video camera running, they saw the street before him as he raced up it; they saw the Manor as he exploded through the door and they saw the ground as he collapsed against the wall.

"What's going on?" Piper asked. Phoebe only shook her head; she had no idea.

Chris looked down at his shoulder, and all three women got a view of the arrow, broken off slightly so that a splintered end could be seen sticking out of his arm, surrounded by his torn, bloody clothing. He reached up a hand to cover the area. He looked away and squeezed his eyes shut, cutting off the screen and bathing the sisters in the oddly visible darkness once more.

"**Nothing for it,"** his thoughts announced raggedly to the darkness.

And then he must have pulled what was left of the arrow out of his arm, because he let out a piercing yell that, as it was the first sound he'd spoken aloud rather than simply thought, sounded even stranger. The fact that it was an agonized yell was not hidden, however, and his eyes popped up as he stared up at the ceiling.

"I am _not_ a fan of this," Piper announced bitterly.

"**Not so bad . . . not so bad . . . pain is mental . . . fight the pain . . . think of the battle ahead, isn't that what Aunt Paige always said . . . think of the battle ahead . . . what does the darklighter want? . . . Does he mean to be in the ghostly plane with me? . . . I can use him . . . I feel so light . . . and tired, so tired. . . ."**

"Wait, did he just talk about the darklighter being in the ghostly plane with him?" Phoebe asked, looking back and forth between her sisters.

"That must have been what he saw that forced him to run the rest of the way to the Manor," Piper said thoughtfully. "We just weren't paying attention and didn't see it." No one replied immediately.

Piper began to pace. Phoebe rubbed her temples with her hands. There had to be a way to deal with this. "Hey . . .," Paige said suddenly, perking up as an epiphany of sorts rang through her tone. "What if we just find a way to make the spell end? If we're really in his head, maybe we'll come out wherever he is, and then we can help him."

"How do we make the spell end?" Piper questioned straight away.

"By seeing the memories we came to see, right?" Paige carried on.

"But we came to see how to save Chris," Phoebe frowned. This was giving her a headache.

"**. . . . If I can just get to the kitchen . . . perhaps there's something I can put together . . . got to get a hold of the darklighter, that's the key . . . need to work on Mom and Leo . . . don't have time for this! No time, no time. . . ."**

Chris was walking again, slowly and with obvious pain, through the Manor in the direction of the kitchen. The sisters said nothing as they watched through his eyes and saw him find a washcloth in the kitchen and run it under water in the sink. They watched as he pressed it to his shoulder and sank into a chair. His eyes were closed for the briefest of instants.

Then his thoughts began to berate himself, telling him to get up and get moving and ignore the pain. Out of no where, a future version of Paige appeared within his mind, much the same way the future Wyatt had earlier.

Her hair was just past her ears and she wore flowing black robes. "In a true crisis you don't get a break, Chris. You keep fighting. You don't give in until the job is done. Giving in is giving up and giving up is _not_ an option."

Future Paige disappeared, only to be replaced by the image of future Leo. "It's time you grow up," future Leo growled. He was decked out in Elder robes, and his expression was unpleasant, to say the least. "It's time you grow up," he repeated.

"_It's time you grow up."_

Chris pushed back the kitchen chair and heaved himself to his feet. His thoughts rambled on as the reprimanding Leo disappeared and left the sisters alone once more. Chris started to rifle through the kitchen cabinets.

"**. . . Should have a few more hours' strength . . . figure out a way to contact the sisters. . . . Leo can heal me . . . his fault anyway. . . ."**

"Alright, we need to make a decision," Piper declared. "We can try and call up a memory, maybe one that will help end the spell and bring us out of his mind. What memory could accomplish that?"

Neither Paige nor Phoebe had an answer.

"Were either of you thinking of anything else besides saving Chris when we first said the spell?" asked Piper. "Because maybe that's what we need to see for the spell to end."

"I'm pretty sure all I was thinking about was saving Chris," Paige replied.

"Me too," Phoebe said. "A part of me wanted to know more about my children, but I don't think it was dominant."

A sudden crashing sound reverberated through the darkness. The sisters looked out of Chris's eyes in alarm, only to see that he too was glancing around the kitchen in the surprise.

"**What the hell was that?"**

"I think we just heard something from outside him," Paige said slowly. "We've already got his eyes, now we've got his ears." Phoebe nodded. This was getting weirder and weirder.

They were silent as Chris crept out of the kitchen, his eyes continuingly darting to and fro in search of the source of the sound. Phoebe couldn't help but jump a little in surprise when all of a sudden Chris came face to face with the darklighter.

"You're not the one I wanted," the darklighter spat.

Chris spoke his thoughts aloud, making them one and the same, and the sensation was rather strange. All three sisters listened intently nonetheless. "Were you after Leo or Wyatt?" Chris replied calmly, coldly.

"**. . . If I go to the left and swerve slightly I can knock the bow out of his arms. I just need to get a hold on it. . . ." **Chris's thoughts continued on planning out how he would jump the darklighter, even as he continued to speak aloud unflinchingly with the darklighter.

"Are you here alone?" asked the darklighter. "Did anyone else come with you?"

"Does it matter?" Chris replied.

The series of events that followed happened so quickly Phoebe didn't know where to look first. Quick as a dart, before the words he spoke had barely finished leaving his mouth, Chris flew at the darklighter, knocking to him his feet and landing a punch in his face. The sounds from outside Chris's mind echoed through his head even as his own thoughts became even more loud and fragmented. An image of Wyatt appeared and began sneering and yelling at Chris at the exact same moment a whole scene appeared in another corner of his mind, a scene of him wrestling with a hideous demon.

All the while, the view out of the screen of his vision showed him tumbling around on the ground with the darklighter, showed him taking a punch to the gut and shouting out as the darklighter tore at his wounded shoulder, showed him twisting the darklighter's arm around his back and slamming his face into a wall.

After a few bloody moments, Chris threw the darklighter off him and the evil man slammed into the far wall. Chris, his thoughts a stream of curses and a picture of the battle already playing out again in another corner of his mind, reached his hand out for the darklighter's arrow.

But the darklighter was faster. He raised his own hand up and summoned his bow and arrow to him. He had it aimed at Chris in an instant, and still cursing, Chris did the only thing he could: he orbed.

It was the strangest sensation Phoebe had yet experienced. The darkness completely disappeared and around them appeared the picture of fenced in yard with a lot of rather sterile looking flowers. "What . . . ?" began Paige.

As quickly as it had begun, it was over, and the familiar blackness that was Chris Halliwell's mind reappeared around them as he fell into an agonized heap on the ground. Looking out of his screen of vision, though it was hazy from his pain, they could see he had orbed to the very yard that had momentarily taken over his mind.

"**. . . fucking darklighter . . . I can't keep . . . won't be able to orb again . . . Damn . . . stupid whitelighter blood . . . one more reason to hate Leo . . . what the hell am I supposed to do now?! . . . **_**Damn. . . .**_**" **

His thoughts were more scattered than even, littered with curses and exclamations of anger and frustration. His vision cleared slightly, but he did not try and move from the spot he had landed in the garden.

"Alright, memory, memory, we've got to think of a damned memory!" Piper exclaimed. "That's the only way we can end this spell and get out of his head and _help_ him!"

"Agreed," Paige nodded, "but we still don't know _what_ memory. Should we try doing something with Phoebe's kids?"

"I really don't think that'll work," said Phoebe. She didn't even care to see them at this point. She'd see her kids when she had them. There were more important things to worry about right now. "I don't think my want to see my children was really that powerful of a factor."

Their conversation halted for a moment when Chris finally pushed himself to his feet and his eyes looked at a large stone building, the one to which the yard he'd landed in obviously belonged. He started towards the main entrance of the building, only stumbling at first, and it was clear he knew exactly where he was going.

His eyes scanned the sign atop the front door before he pushed through the glass doors. "The Sarah Melville Psychiatric Hospital" it read. Phoebe looked at Paige and knew that her sister was thinking the same thing she was: why had Chris chosen to orb to a Psychiatric Hospital?

His constant stream of thoughts provided no explanation.

"**. . . Rest on one of the beds . . . try and gather some strength . . . need to try and contact someone . . . damn shoulder . . . got to piss. . . ."**

"Has anyone else noticed that his thoughts are a little bit . . . crude?" asked Paige thoughtfully.

"Not our biggest problem right now, Paige," Piper snapped in reply.

Chris walked purposefully through the hospital, climbing a flight of steps that winded him and had him hunching over for a few moments to gather his strength. Eventually he entered a ward that was labeled as the "Permanent Ward" rather ominously, walked without pause past a receptionist desk of sorts, then down a hall, and finally turned into an unlabeled room. It was completely empty save a small bed and nearby bureau. He dropped onto the bed, lying back so the sisters' only view was the white ceiling.

"**He won't think to look for me here,"** Chris thought, his first clear thought in a while. His eyes flickered shut and his thoughts slowed for a moment. He opened them again, rubbing his hand over his face. His thoughts were instructing him to think, ironically enough.

Phoebe knew she ought to bring up the subject of memories again. It seemed that every time they started to get into gear and work on getting out of his mind, Chris saw something or heard something or did _something_ that distracted them. They needed to focus on getting out so they could help him.

No more distractions.

Even as she thought it, the biggest distraction yet began.

It wasn't like the memories they had seen before. It wasn't as if they were being fully immersed inside a recollection. Instead, it was as if a part of his mind was showing the memory on a reel, and it took up a great deal of the darkness. Phoebe felt as though she was watching a play: the characters were so close and so real, yet she wasn't a part of it.

She was only watching.

Chris was walking down a street, and he looked — thankfully — not as thin, bloodied, or dirty as he'd been in the last memory they'd seen. He appeared tired more than anything else as he turned a corner and The Sarah Melville Psychiatric Hospital could be seen looming before him. It seemed to be his destination.

"Did either of you call up a memory . . . or something?" asked Paige, her brow creasing.

"No," Piper shook her head.

"I think Chris did this," Phoebe said. "I think he's remembering this moment."

The hospital was bustling in the memory, but Chris walked as purposefully through it as if he didn't notice any of the people that surrounded him. He went up the stairs just as he had before, and once again he turned on the floor marked the permanent ward. This time, though, he stopped at the receptionist desk.

"How can I help you?" asked the woman behind the desk. She was small and thin with beady eyes behind rhinestone glasses. She didn't look up from a stack of papers as she spoke.

"I'm here for a visit," Chris told her curtly.

"Who are you here to see?" she questioned tonelessly.

"Paige Mitchell," he answered. The woman froze as he gave the name, but Phoebe hardly noticed. Chris had come to a psychiatric hospital to see . . . _Paige_? She glanced over at her little sister, who stood standing in similar shock.

"Maybe it's not the same Paige . . .?" Paige said, looking back and forth between Phoebe and Piper. "My last name isn't Mitchell. . . ."

"It could be in the future," Piper pointed out softly.

"You . . . you're here to see Paige Mitchell?" the woman behind the desk asked, finally looking up from her work. Her eyes bounced nervously around the room before falling on his face again.

"That's right," Chris nodded.

"Ah, okay, you just — you just . . . I need to sign you in," she said, obviously flustered now. Her eyes continued to dart around the room every few moments. What had her so frightened? "Your name?" she asked quietly.

"Chris Halliwell," Chris replied, not appearing at all bothered by the woman's behavior. The poor woman got only more nervous when he gave his name. She didn't say a word, however; she only wrote something on a clipboard, then looked up at him timidly.

"Down the hall and to the left," she said.

"I know how to get there," he replied. He turned away without another word, and as Phoebe had suspected, he turned down the same hall he had gone earlier and headed straight towards the room he was currently lying in and recalling this memory.

He stopped at the closed door. This time there was a label on the whitewashed wood: "Paige Mitchell" it said. Phoebe felt her heart sink. This memory wasn't shaping up to be any better than those they'd already seen.

Worse still, there was a man standing as if on guard duty right outside the door. He was tall, thin, and pale, and Phoebe knew, despite the suit he wore, that he was a demon. After all the years she'd spent fighting them, she'd gotten rather good at recognizing demons, no matter the situation. Chris acted as if he didn't even see the demon, and in turn the demon made no move to stop Chris from reaching for the door and pushing it open.

He stepped into the room and slowly closed the door behind him. It was silent and he didn't say or do anything right away to break that silence. The room was nearly as bare as it was in the ghostly plane, and the bed and bureau were in the exact same place.

It occurred randomly to Phoebe that Chris's stream of thoughts had been rather silent for a while, and she realized that he was probably reliving the memory and was as immersed in what was playing out before them in his mind as they were.

"Hey," Chris greeted hesitantly. Phoebe hadn't noticed the woman to whom he was speaking earlier, but now she couldn't take her eyes of her. She was of average height and had dark brown hair, but that was about all Phoebe could see. The woman was looking out of a tiny, square window and her back was facing Chris, and thereby, Phoebe and her sisters.

The woman wore hospital robes, and it was clear that this was her room and she was the woman Chris had come to see. Was it Paige? Was this where Paige ended up? Was this her future? Phoebe glanced at her sister. Paige was staring with burning eyes at the back of the woman in the memory.

"Are you doing okay?" Chris asked slowly.

There was another moment of silence before the woman spoke. "There's an upper-level demon outside my door right now," she said softly, so softly Phoebe had to strain to hear. "He's guarding. It's not really guarding, though, no, no, not guarding. Guards keep evil out. He's keeping me in."

Even with the soft, broken tone of voice, Phoebe could still recognize it. The woman before them, the woman in the memory, the woman in the psychiatric ward, was most definitely Paige's future self.

And then she turned around. She was hugging herself, and her arms were papery skin stretched too tightly over thin bones. Her face was as pale as it always was but in a different way, a sicklier way. Her dark eyes were sunken in her face, her lips were thin and colorless and her whole bearing was hunched and weary. She wore no make-up, and if that wasn't an oddity enough, her dark hair was uncombed and tangled, held back from her face in a low ponytail.

Phoebe had never seen Paige looking so terrible, looking as if she hadn't taken care of herself for a long time. She couldn't begin to imagine what present Paige, _her _Paige, standing beside her, thought of it all.

"I want to kill him," future Paige told Chris. "But I can't." She chuckled slowly, and then suddenly seemed to start choking as if her laughter was turning into tears. She clamped her mouth shut and closed her eyes, hugging herself tighter. She slowly opened her eyes when she gained control of herself again. "Hello Chris," she said softly.

"Hi Aunt Paige," he murmured, stepping further into the room. He was hesitant and soft as he spoke, but he certainly wasn't nervous or out of his element. It was clear he had done this before. Future Paige turned away from him, sinking slowly down onto the ground, her back leaning against the side of the bed.

"What have you been doing?" Chris asked as he came to sit on the ground beside her.

"Wishing," Paige answered wistfully, her tone matching her words.

"What are you wishing for?" questioned Chris. He didn't even try and catch her gaze, and considering she was staring emotionlessly straight ahead, it would have been a fruitless effort if he had.

She never answered his question. "Look at me," Phoebe heard Paige whisper, and out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Piper wrap an arm around Paige's shoulders. "I look so . . . _lifeless_." It seemed as if Paige was getting the worst of it when it came to Chris's memories. It was Paige's daughter they saw murdered; it was Paige's life they saw crumbling before them now.

"Has Wyatt been by to see you?" Chris asked future Paige, slicing through the silence.

She shook her head. "It's my fault," she told Chris, "it's all my fault."

"What's your fault?" When she didn't answer, Chris questioned again, "What's your fault, Aunt Paige?"

"I was a horrible mother," Paige carried on, almost as if she weren't even speaking to Chris. "I can remember all the things I said and did; I just sit here and I remember the fights I would have with Pen and I know that I was horrible, so horrible. . . ."

"Don't think about it," Chris murmured. "Think about something else."

"Phoebe was a better mom than me," Paige went on. She was still staring into space, and it seemed clear to Phoebe that future Paige wasn't speaking to Chris at all. "Piper, too . . . I never should have been a mother. Or maybe I should have died that day, instead of Piper." She turned abruptly to Chris. "I'm sorry, Chris. I'm sorry she died, and not me. You deserved her. Pen and Pat didn't deserve me."

"Don't say that," Chris told her, his voice finally embedded with some kind of emotion. "It's not true; you were a good mom. I promise."

"No, no," future Paige shook her head adamantly, "don't try and console me! Don't lie to me! Horrible! I was . . . I was . . . I was. . . ." She began to rock back and forth, and she hugged her bony knees tightly to her chest.

"You weren't a bad mom," Chris insisted. "That's not a lie."

Suddenly, surprising Phoebe, future Paige pushed herself to her feet, and though it looked as if she almost toppled back to the ground again, she stayed standing, her arms wrapping around herself as if it held her together. "It shouldn't have been me," she muttered, repeating, "Not me, not me, not me. . . ."

"What shouldn't have been you?" Chris asked tiredly as he too pushed himself to his feet.

"I was an only child, you know," future Paige told him, going to look out the window again. "I was raised all by myself, and I was independent! Independent!" she declared. Even her proclamation, though, lacked any sort of real emotion or voice.

"I know," Chris said, stepping towards her slowly.

"When I met Piper and Phoebe, I was independent. I fought so hard to be independent. I loved them, and I wanted sisters, but I didn't _need_ them." There was a long stretch of silence. Then future Paige turned back to Chris, and her eyes were swimming in tears that slowly slipped down her face. "Chris, I was so _wrong._"

She stepped towards him, rocking slightly on her heels, and then she brought her hand to her mouth, her tears increasing. "I stopped being Paige a long time ago. I became a part of Paige, Phoebe, and Piper. And now I don't know how to be just Paige again. I, I, I don't know what to do without them . . . I keep waiting, waiting, for Phoebe to kickbox that demon and break down the door and get me out or for Piper to freeze him and I'm just waiting . . . and I miss them _so_ much."

"Aunt Paige," murmured Chris, sounding slightly pained.

"It's hurts, Chris, its hurts," she cried, "I lost my husband, and my girls, and my sisters, and it's all my fault . . . I shouldn't be left, I shouldn't be the one left, not me, not me, no, no. . . ."

"It's not your fault," Chris told her.

"Horrible mother, I was a horrible mother. . . ."

"You _weren't_," Chris persisted, stepping still closer to her.

"No! Stop it!" Paige screamed, shoving him away from her. "Stop lying to me! Stop it!"

"Aunt Paige —"

"Get out! Leave me here by myself! I deserve it! Get out!" She sunk slowly down to the ground again, sobbing now, her hand clutching her mouth even as she continued to rock back and forth, back and forth. "Don't come see me . . . you shouldn't come see me. . . . I'm horrible, I'm a horrible mother. Penny hates me, she hates me, hates me, hates, hates, hates. . . ."

She continued to cry with her head bowed down, her face hidden from view. "She didn't hate you," Chris told her. His face had grown hard in the last few moments. "She loved you. Pen loved you." When the crying, trembling future Paige didn't respond, Chris turned and left the room, glancing back one last time to add softly, "I'll see you next week."

"Paige," Phoebe whispered, turning to her sister, who was crying. "Come here, honey, come here." Phoebe pulled her baby sister to her and Paige clutched her tightly as they hugged. "That's not gonna happen," Phoebe assured her. "It's not. We're not going to let it."

"We're not," added Piper, rubbing Paige's back soothingly. Phoebe met her older sister's gaze and saw that Piper's eyes were wet, too, if not also gleaming with stubborn determination. For a few minutes the three of them stood there like that, and it was as if they forgot they were inside Chris's head.

"I'm here for a visit," Chris said. Phoebe looked away from her sisters in surprise to see that another memory was playing exactly the way the first had a moment ago. She exchanged a confused glance with Piper. Chris was once more at the psychiatric hospital, once more at the receptionist desk. He looked slightly different, though, wore another outfit, and was addressing a different receptionist.

The first memory was still fading away a few feet away from where this one was starting up, but Phoebe paid it no mind. "Name?" asked the older woman behind the desk.

"Paige Mitchell," Chris answered. The woman looked up with concern. She didn't seem as frightened as the small, beady-eyed woman from earlier, but she certainly looked upset at the name Chris had given. "What's the matter?" Chris asked wearily, not sounding as if he cared all that much.

"You — you can't . . . I'm sorry, but you can't see Mrs. Mitchell right now," the woman told him. Chris frowned, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"My name is Chris Halliwell," he told her. "And I don't know who told you not to let me see Paige, but I have an agreement with Wyatt Halliwell — _the_ Wyatt Halliwell. You can't keep me from seeing her."

"I'm sorry," the woman shook her head. "You just . . . can't."

"Why not?" Chris demanded.

"I — I —," she only shook her head, ill at ease. Chris turned away from her and began striding quickly towards the hall that would lead to Paige's room. "Wait!" called the receptionist. He paid her no heed.

"What horrible thing are we about to see now?" Piper murmured. Phoebe hardly heard her. There were six or seven demons surrounding the door to Paige's room. Chris sped up at the sight. He tried to push past them, but one held up a hand to stop them.

"What the hell?" he demanded, furious. "What's going on?"

"I can't let you in," one demon answered in a deep voice, "'s the boss's orders."

"Let me in," Chris nearly hissed, "_now._ My orders." Before the demon could even open his mouth to reply, Chris swept his hand to the side and the demon went flying. The others all stepped aside. Phoebe suspected they had been told never to fight Chris, and she doubted any of them were going to try and stop him without fighting and get their asses kicked.

Chris shoved open the door and stormed into the room. There was a doctor and three nurses all in the room, hovering around the bed. They all looked up in surprise as he entered. "What —?" he began. One of the nurses moved slightly to say something to the doctor and unintentionally revealed the bed to Chris.

Phoebe stopped breathing. Future Paige lay there on her bed, unmoving. Her face was chalk white and worst of all, her eyes were open and glazed over, staring at nothing. Phoebe knew what death looked like.

Paige was dead.

"No," Chris whispered, shaking his head. As if it wasn't already breaking, Phoebe felt her whole heart truly wither at the look on his face. "No, no, _no_!" he cried, his hands coming up to clutch at his hair as he backed away from the bed.

"You shouldn't be in here, sir," said one of the nurses.

"NO!" shouted Chris. "No! No!"

"Please, calm down," said another nurse.

"What's going on in here?"

Chris whirled around at the voice and Phoebe felt her throat go dry at the sight of future Wyatt. For the first time he wore something other than a black t-shirt: a dark blue collared shirt under an expensive trench coat. Phoebe couldn't help but be reminded of Cole, of all people.

"You!" Chris cried. "_You _did this!"

"She's dead, sir," the doctor told Wyatt, even as he glanced timidly at a hysterical Chris.

"I didn't do this," Wyatt replied to Chris, not acknowledging the doctor. "I would not do this," he insisted calmly.

"So what, she just died in the night? Do you really think I'm _that_ stupid, Wyatt?"

"Little brother," Wyatt sighed.

"No! You swore to me, you _swore_, Wyatt, you swore you would leave her alone! I let you strip her powers and lock her up in here but you swore you'd let her live! You swore!" Chris screamed.

Phoebe couldn't help but think at that moment that this, despite being horrible, was proof that Chris truly didn't hate them all. Even if he didn't show it, Chris must have loved Paige in one way or another.

"I did not do this, Christopher," Wyatt told him firmly. "She's been dying for weeks. You know that. She never eats. She never takes her medicine. She killed herself."

"NO!" shouted Chris, leaping at Wyatt. A demon appeared out of no where to restrain Chris. "You did this!" he spat.

"Do not make a foolish error," Wyatt reprimanded, his eyes flashing. "I kept to my word. Aunt Paige killed herself by neglecting her life."

"No, no," Chris began to cry, and the fight seemed to leak out of him as he fell to his knees. The demon no longer had to restrain him. Wyatt watched him closely, his face expressionless.

"I'm sorry, little brother," Wyatt said. "I understand that she was of . . . _importance_ to you." His voice was toneless. There was no care in his voice, no true apologetic or sympathetic emotion.

Orbs appeared a few feet away from the brothers, and a moment later future Leo materialized. He wore golden Elder robes and his hair was nearly all gray now. "Is it true?" he asked the doctor even as his eyes brushed over Chris and Leo. He sighed. "It is true," he answered his own question. "The Charmed Ones are all dead."

He swallowed, looking away from everyone, and Phoebe could detect the barest trace of emotion in his lined, older face. She didn't have any time to examine him, though. "You!" Chris spat, jumping to his feet as his eyes burned into Leo. "How can you come here? How can you be here?"

"Chris," Leo sighed. "Do not take your anger out on me."

"You abandoned her! You abandoned her the way you abandoned us all! I thought it was just me when I was a kid, and maybe then it was, but then you abandoned us all!" Chris shouted. He was crying now; tears collected in his eyes and ran quickly down his red face.

"I feel Paige's loss as greatly as you do," Leo replied.

"NO!" shrieked Chris, before sending Leo soaring through the air and slamming him into the far wall. The doctor and nurses were alarmed, and they stood as frozen in fear as Phoebe was in horror.

Leo started to get to his feet, and Chris smashed him against the wall again. Phoebe could almost see the breath rush from Leo as the older man winced in pain. "You have no right to be here!" Chris yelled. "You know nothing of pain or suffering or loss!"

"Chris —!" Leo started, trying to stand again.

"Don't speak to me!" Chris yelled, and suddenly he raised his hand and curled it into a fist and Leo let out a scream that broke off in silent, agonized pain. He clutched at his chest, falling flat on his back, his mouth frozen in a noiseless cry of pain.

Chris's nostrils flared, his eyes burned, and his knuckles went white as he stared at Leo, who withered slightly where he lay. "My God," Piper murmured beside Phoebe. "I think . . . he's _killing _him. . . ."

That's when Phoebe noticed the look on Wyatt's face. His eyes were darting back and forth between Chris and Leo, and he looked absolutely _delighted._ A horrible smile slid slowly across his face as a kind of vicious light gleamed in his eyes. "Yes, Chris," he murmured. "_Yes_, Chris, _yes_. . . ."

"Ch-Chr —" Leo wheezed. If possible, Chris tightened his fist, cutting Leo off.

"It's _your _fault. If you'd been there for her, Aunt Paige never would have died. If you . . .," his breath caught for a moment, "if you'd been there for her, _Mom_ never would have died . . . you _deserve_ to die!" Chris said, his voice shaking.

"Yes," muttered Wyatt, and, growing impatient, he added, "Finish it! Finish him! Kill him!" For the first time since the whole, terrible scene had begun, Chris glanced away from Leo to look at Wyatt. His eyes went wide.

He glanced back at Leo. And not saying a word, he uncurled his fist and stumbled away from Leo and from Wyatt and from everyone. His face was horribly pale. Leo lay taking gasping breaths, and Phoebe knew another moment or two and Chris would have killed him. Wyatt let out a sigh.

"Before long, little brother," he said. "You'll realize the truth."

Chris shook his head, his eyes glancing painfully over at future Paige's dead body.

"You are _my_ brother, Chris. All that I am, all the evil that's in me," Wyatt told him.

Chris shook his head, finally meeting Wyatt's gaze.

"It's in _you_, too. And it's only a matter of time. . . ."

Chris orbed away, and the memory faded out of sight. Phoebe took a deep breath, swiping at her eyes. She glanced around the darkness, half expecting to see Chris bring up another memory. That was when she realized that, while they had been watching the memory, Chris's mind had been changing.

It was no longer all darkness, but more of a great expanse of . . . gray. It was almost _blurry. _"What's going on?" asked Paige, even as she tried to stifle her tears and wipe at her eyes.

"When was . . . when was the last time anyone heard Chris's thoughts?" Phoebe asked, concern crawling through her chest, curling like wisps of smoke around her heart. She realized then that the screen of vision was gone, too. His eyes were closed. . . .

"_It's in you, too,"_ a voice echoed through the darkness. A little boy ran past them. He was seven or eight at the oldest and had thick, messy blonde hair. He paused in his run and turn back.

"Come on!" he yelled. Another little boy appeared, running to catch up with the blonde boy. This one had brown hair that fell into his eyes, his shoe laces were untied and he looked only a year or so younger than the first one.

"Wait for me!" he shouted.

"I _am_ waiting!" replied the blonde boy. "Come _on_, little brother!" The younger boy tripped and as he struggled to his feet, his older brother rolled his eyes. "You're so pathetic," he declared.

"I'm sorry," the brunette said softly.

"It's okay," shrugged the blonde. "I still like you. Brothers have got to stick together, right? Even if you're a baby, I'll watch out for you."

"I am _not_ a baby!"

"Sure you aren't, Chris," taunted the blonde. He started running again, and his little brother chased after him.

"Wait for me! Wyatt! Wait for me!"

The two little boys disappeared.

"_Brothers have got to stick together, right?_" the little boy's voice echoed around them.

The gray seemed to thicken. Chris's thoughts were most definitely absent. Phoebe tried to gauge how long they'd been in Chris's mind, how long he'd had a darklighter's arrow in his shoulder. How long could a whitelighter survive with the poison in him? Chris wasn't . . . _No_. . . .

"Chris!" Piper shouted out suddenly. "Chris, baby! Can you hear me! I know you're fading fast but you can't give up yet! You can't! CHRIS!"

"He can't hear you, hon," Paige said softly.

"He has to hear me!" Piper cried. "We've got to get out of here to help him! CHRIS!"

Phoebe spun around, as if hoping to see some sign that Chris was okay, that he was still thinking or watching or hearing or remembering. But there was nothing. And the gray fog was growing.

"Wait a minute," Paige said, "I just thought of something. What if we just . . . wrote a spell?"

"What?" asked Phoebe, frowning.

"You know, a spell," she repeated, emphasizing the word. "Pull out a few rhymes to end To Heal a Heart spell. It can't be that hard, right?"

"I guess it's worth a shot . . ." Phoebe replied, already racking her mind for the right words. Could they do that? Would it be that easy? What would they say? They had to make sure they came out in the ghostly plane so that they could help Chris. But then again, how would they help him? They'd be stuck there with him. . . .

"We have to come up with something fast," said Piper, apparently in support of the plan to use a spell.

"_That's it, that's all," _Paige started off suddenly, _"There's no need to stall. . . ."_ She glanced at Piper and Phoebe with wide eyes, as if telling them to take it from there.

"_So end this spell,_" Phoebe said slowly, _"Oh, that would be . . . swell?"_

"_Take us to Chris, get us out of his mind,_" added Piper.

"_So that we can save all of mankind!"_ Paige finished excitedly.

Nothing happened. "Well, that sucks —!" Paige began. Before she could finish, however, her voice was cut off by her shout of surprise as a wave of color seemed to wash over them. Phoebe felt her stomach drop and the hair on the back of her neck stand up straight as everything swirled around her.

It took Phoebe a moment, but as her head stopped spinning and she pushed herself into sitting position, relief flooded through her. She and her sisters had landed in a heap on the ground _outside_ Chris's mind. Piper had already leapt to her feet and was racing to the bed that Chris lay on.

"It worked!" Paige announced gleefully.

"Not our best spell," Phoebe said, "but it definitely did the job." She smiled as Paige helped her to her feet. Her smile faded as she came to stand beside the bed. Piper was pressing her hand to Chris's forehead, murmuring to him.

"Come on, sweetie, wake up, now," she said. "It's okay; we're here with you now." He was pale and pasty, his lips were white and his face was covered in glistening sweat. He was trembling as if from chills.

"Chris," Paige said. "Dude, wake up, we've gone through too much for you to die now." She looked over at Phoebe and mouthed the words, 'What do we do now?' They hadn't really thought about that. They had been so focused on getting out of his mind so that they could help him that it had only even briefly occurred to them to wonder _how_ they were going to help him.

Chris's eyes flickered open. "Hey, hey, honey," Piper said, trying to grab and hold his attention. "Look at me, baby boy, look at me."

"I'm — I'm _not_ evil," he murmured, struggling to speak.

"I know you're not, shh, shh, I know," Piper assured, settling on to the bed and pulling his head into her lap. "I know, I know," she repeated. She looked up at Phoebe and Paige. Phoebe could only return her stare.

Could they never catch a break?

**TO BE CONTINUED . . .**

A/N: Here's another rather long chapter, but since my life is about to take a busy turn and I have no idea when the next update will come, I figure you deserve a long chapter :) Once again, a lot happened in this chapter, but the next will finally hold some answers. I hope this one wasn't too confusing what with my trying to describe what it would be like to be inside someone's mind. As per usual, I beg of you to review! Nothing creates an incentive for updating like a good review . . . ;)


	13. Chapter 13

_A/N: I know that after a series of quick updates, this seems like it took forever, but hopefully it's good enough to make up for that fact! It isn't the longest chapter, and it switches POV often, but it's an important chapter. As always, may I be so kind as to remind you that this is AU after "Prince Charming" and that I own no rights to Charmed; I am simply playing with someone else's toys for my own amusement. Enjoy!_

_

* * *

_He groaned, and as feeling slowly returned to his limbs, he felt the cold wood ground beneath him and the shooting pain in his limbs. His cheek was pressed to the ground, and wincing slightly, he rolled over onto his back, his eyes flickering open. What had just happened? As his eyes came into focus, so did his memories and he shot to his feet.

Wyatt was no where to be seen. He shouted for him nonetheless and then began running through the house in search of him. The little boy was gone. Alarm was spinning through Leo now. How could he have let this happen? What kind of father was he? The sisters still weren't back, and Leo had no idea how long they would be.

What if Salome was the one who turned Wyatt evil? What if this was when she did it? What if she was the one to kidnap Wyatt and she treated him so terribly that — exactly as Phoebe had theorized would happen to him — when they were finally able to rescue him, the damage had been done?

The panic in Leo grew. He tried to calm himself down and sense for Wyatt, but he came up blank. His baby boy was in the underworld. Leo thought he might be sick. He needed the sisters. He couldn't exactly go running through the underworld by himself. But how could he get to them? They were inside Chris's mind, and he had absolutely no idea where Chris even was.

He silently cursed. He needed help. _Gideon_, he thought to himself. Gideon would be able to help. And really, at this point he was the only option. Leo took a moment to reach out and sense for Gideon, and he found him at Magic School. A moment later, Leo had orbed to him.

Gideon looked up in surprise. "Leo!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" He snapped shut the book he had been flipping through.

"I need your help," Leo said immediately, wasting no time. "Chris was hit by a darklighter earlier and then he and the darklighter disappeared in some sort of an explosion. Piper, Phoebe and Paige did a spell to go to him and they disappeared. I haven't heard from them and I have no idea how long they've been gone, because while I was watching Wyatt, the demon Salome attacked me, knocked me unconscious and kidnapped my son."

It all came rambling out, and he desperately hoped Gideon had followed all that, because he doubted he had the patience to say it all again. Gideon took a deep breath.

"A darklighter attacked Chris?" he asked slowly.

Leo nodded. "I think he was after me."

"He probably was," Gideon replied softly. "I warned you, Leo. I warned you that you would be in danger if you remained on Earth. It's not where you belong, not any more."

"I have to protect my family!" Leo defended, outraged. He didn't have time for this! Hadn't Gideon heard a word he said? Everything was falling to pieces right at that very moment. "Chris and Wyatt both needed me — they still do!"

"The _world_ needs you, Leo!" Gideon said empathetically.

Leo shook his head, glancing away angrily for a moment. "Look, we can't have this discussion right now. I told you I'd fully embrace my role as an Elder once I'd saved Wyatt and Chris. You told me you'd help me. Well, I need your help now."

Gideon nodded. "Yes, yes, I know. Let's think. What could the explosion have been?"

"It couldn't have killed Chris if the sisters were able to project themselves successfully into his mind," Leo said. That was about all he had to go on.

"Project themselves into his mind?" Gideon repeated disbelievingly.

Leo only nodded in confirmation.

"I see," Gideon said slowly. "Well, tell me more about this explosion. What _exactly_ happened?"

"We had managed to knock the darklighter aside, but while we were all talking, he got to his feet again and fired an arrow. It hit Chris, he fell to his knees as he screamed, and then there was a kind of . . . explosion. We all lost sight for a moment, and when the air cleared, Chris and the darklighter were gone," Leo explained. He racked his mind in search of some other detail, but that was truly all he could recall.

"Perhaps someone wanted to get a hold of you or Chris in connection with Wyatt," Gideon suggested, starting to walk over to a bookshelf. Leo could very nearly see the wheels turning in the other Elder's mind. "And they wanted to get him alone."

"I'm not sure I understand," said Leo. Gideon turned back to him and held up a book. "Everything You Want To Know About Portals But Were Afraid To Ask," Leo read the title aloud. "You think he created a portal? Darklighters don't have that kind of power."

"No, but if the darklighter was working for someone who was after Wyatt and wanted to get Chris, or more likely, _you_, alone, then perhaps that someone orchestrated the darklighter's attack as a distraction to activate the portal," Gideon clarified.

Leo let his mind run over the idea. It made sense.

"Go back to your house," Gideon instructed. "Search for the portal. You must find the sisters. The loss of the Charmed Ones is not something the magical community can take. If you can find the portal, this book will help you reverse it and hopefully bring back Chris — and the Charmed Ones — to the Manor."

"What about Wyatt?" Leo asked. He was completely torn. Would saving one son condemn the other? And how was he to choose?

"Don't worry about Wyatt," Gideon instructed. "Save Chris and the sisters. I will go in search of Wyatt. I know of the demon Salome. I will use that and my other knowledge to locate her and your son. I will find Wyatt; don't worry."

Leo swallowed, slowly nodding. Gideon was certainly powerful enough to do as he said. He would find Wyatt and rescue him from Salome, and Leo would rescue Chris and the sisters. "Okay," he agreed.

"Very good, then," said Gideon. "Go back to the Manor, find the portal, and reverse it. I'll go after Wyatt." Once again, Leo nodded. He took the book that Gideon offered.

"Thank you," he said sincerely. He would never be able to repay his old mentor — and friend — for this. "I owe you one."

"Yes, well, wait until we've succeeded before you start saying that," Gideon told him softly. Leo orbed away, and for a moment, Gideon stood staring at the spot he had stood at an instant before.

"Not what I had planned," he said aloud to the empty room. "But I can use this to my advantage." And with his expression still pensive, he too orbed away.

* * *

"Why don't we try a spell again?" Paige suggested hesitantly.

"Spells don't fix everything," Piper snapped in reply, cooing a moment later, "Come on, baby, stay with me now," to Chris as she rocked back and forth with his head in her lap.

Paige looked over at Phoebe as if hoping for assistance. Her head was pounding, and she wasn't generally one to suffer from headaches. Considering she had just seen herself in a mental institution and then seen her own dead body, though, it was a wonder she could even think.

"We need to find a way out of this plane," Phoebe said, and she spoke as if determined to keep a level mind and not get distracted or torn up inside. "The only way to do that is to figure out how we got here in the first place, and that means we need to talk to that darklighter."

Paige nodded. Her sister was right. That was really the only course of action before them.

"Alright, then go find the damn darklighter and drag his sorry ass back here," Piper said, her eyes blazing. Paige exchanged a glance with Phoebe and knew they were on the same wavelength.

"Sweetie," Phoebe said timidly. "It might be better if you and I go, and Paige stays here with Chris. You do have the best power, and we don't want to put Paige's life in danger, too. . . ."

"I can't leave him here," Piper immediately protested, as they had known she would.

"You wouldn't be leaving him by himself," Paige told her softly, stepping a little closer. "I'll take care of him until you can get back here. It's the best chance we've got."

"It really is," Phoebe added gently.

Piper swallowed thickly, looking down at Chris. "I'll be right back, okay, baby? Okay?" His eyes were shut again, and Paige would have marked him for a goner already if it hadn't been for the chills that made him shiver so violently. Piper leaned down and pressed a kiss to his sweaty forehead. "Don't die on me, okay? Do you hear me? Don't you dare die," she warned with a tearful voice.

She slowly extracted herself from him, laying his head gently down on the bed. Paige had honestly expected more of a fight from her older sister, but she was perfectly happy to accept the absence of one.

A moment later and Piper and Phoebe were gone. Paige slowly settled down on the bed beside Chris. "Damn, kid, its hard being us, isn't it?" she asked. He didn't respond. It was no less than she had expected.

"Don't you worry, though; Piper and Phoebe are going to fix this. It's what they do," she assured. She brushed some of the hair from his face and cringed slightly at the blazing heat she felt from his forehead. There was nothing she could do for him, though.

She sighed, glancing around the room. The last two memories they had seen came to mind. She imagined that if someone were inside her head right now, that someone would be seeing the memory of the memories playing on a reel in the abyss that was her mind. Thinking that only made her head hurt _more._

She looked over at the tiny window. It was so pitiful. How could this little room become her life? How could she become that poor, pathetic, _broken_ woman she had seen in the memory? She shook her head, as if she was contradicting someone else in the room. She wasn't going to become that woman.

Wyatt wasn't going to turn evil, Piper wasn't going to die, and Paige wasn't going to end up sad, alone, and stripped of her powers in a mental institution. _I won't_, she told herself, _I won't._

Chris let out a sudden, shaky breath, and Paige's eyes immediately snapped to his face. His eyes were glazed as he looked over at her from behind hooded lids. "Hey, kid," she greeted softly. "Piper and Phoebe are getting help."

He swallowed. "Stop Wyatt from turning evil," Chris wheezed. His eyes bore into hers.

"I will," Paige told him. "_We_ will. Of course we will. You don't have to say that. You don't have to say anything. Just rest . . . and, you know, conserve energy or something." She really wasn't the best person to provide comfort. Piper sure as hell would have been a lot better at this.

"If he . . . he, he . . . doesn't turn evil," Chris pushed, his breathing coming hard with the strain to speak. More sweat beaded along his hair line. "I won't . . . I won't have to come back . . . in . . . time," he said. He refused to stop speaking; she could see the determination etched into his pale, sweaty face alongside the death that clung to him. "And I won't . . . die. . . ."

"If we save Wyatt," Paige nodded her head, "then once you're born you'll grow up in a better future, you'll never have to come back in time, you won't die and it'll all be cool. I hear you. It's gonna be okay. Just . . . just relax. You're fine."

Chris didn't respond, and his eyes fluttered shut. Paige mopped his brow slightly with her sleeve, frustration at her apparent uselessness welling up inside her. "You're gonna be fine. I'm here with you, and Phoebe and Piper are getting help," she repeated softly.

Her mind flashed back to his anguish at seeing her lifeless body on this very same bed. He cared for her. She recalled the memory with Gideon and the little girl named Prue. Chris had said that he'd stayed with Wyatt in an attempt to save her. That had to mean something, right?

He didn't hate them all. She really believed that. They had hurt him and mistrusted him and treated him badly, but he didn't hate them. He hadn't just come back in time to save Wyatt; he had come back in time to save them all, to save his family.

"You've saved me," she told him, emotion choking her despite herself. "You hear that, Chris? I'm not going to become the person in your memories. I'm going to be the mom that those girls deserve. I'm not going to abandon them. I'm not going to be too busy being a witch to be a mom. And I'm going to be there for you. You'll always be able to talk to me."

Chris didn't respond. He looked even worse off, although she hadn't believed that possible a moment earlier. "No matter what, you've saved me. I won't become that person," she insisted, her voice barely audible.

"Never knew you," he muttered. His eyes weren't open, and she wasn't sure if he was remembering something and mumbling to himself or if he was speaking to her. "You were always . . . you were just . . . you were Penny's mom and . . . that's all."

He must be talking to her.

"I never . . . knew you . . . never," he repeated softly, his voice trailing off into nothing.

"It's okay," Paige said for what felt like the umpteenth time. She could think of nothing better to say.

"But you . . . I think . . .," Chris murmured, shifting slightly, uncomfortably. "Now I know . . . you 'mind . . . remind. . . ." His voice trailed off again.

"I remind?" Paige prompted. Would it be better to let him rest? Or would keeping him conscious and talking to her be better?

"Of her," he gasped. His feverish eyes opened and settled on her face, though she felt strangely as if he were looking through her rather than at her. "Of Penny," he muttered.

"I remind you of Penny?" Paige whispered.

His eyes slid shut again. "Mmm-hmm." He tried to nod. Paige felt her eyes fill with tears. She didn't know Penny; the few memories she'd seen of the girl had shown her very little. But she knew the girl must have been wonderful; she knew Chris couldn't adore someone as much as he seemed to adore Penny unless she was worth it.

And now Chris was telling her she reminded him of Penny, of her daughter whom he so loved. Paige's heart constricted. "You stay with me now," she told him. "You heard your mom, kid: don't you dare die. She'll never forgive you."

There was no response.

A few minutes passed in slow torture, and Paige busied herself brushing the fringe from Chris's forehead and wiping away the sweat on his cheeks, assuring him over and over again that everything was going to be just fine; Piper and Phoebe were getting help. At some point she began to sing, although she hadn't done anything of the sort since she'd stopped dating that married jackass.

Her voice was soft at first, but Chris wasn't exactly the most attentive listener, and her confidence soon grew without any conscious effort on her part. Her voice carried throughout the room as she sang the chorus to different songs that came to mind. She hoped it was comforting to him in one way or another. Every once and a while she would pause to tell him, "you better stay with me, buddy, or I'm never going to hear the end of it from Piper."

When the door banged open, Paige nearly leapt three feet in the air. "Sorry!" Phoebe said breathlessly. "I didn't mean to startle you. How is he?" Her gaze flickered to Chris. "He looks —"

"He's not dead," Paige interrupted assuredly, "not yet, at least. What have you found out? Did you get the darklighter? Where's Piper?" Phoebe better have good news, because Chris didn't have time for bad news.

"We found him, and I think Piper would have ripped him to shreds with her teeth if she'd had to," Phoebe said. She spoke quickly, as if trying to spill it all out at once. "It's a portal," she told Paige, "the explosion that swept Chris away was a distraction to the opening of a portal. The darklighter orbed away before we could get any more out of him, but we think that we need to get back to the spot in the manor that the portal was created and maybe we can find a way to open it again. . . ."

"Where's Piper?" repeated Paige, her mind racing to process all that Phoebe said.

"Back at the manor, trying to figure out how to open the portal," her sister replied. "We don't have much time."

"Clearly," Paige answered. She swallowed slowly, steeling herself. It was time to get back in the action.

* * *

At some point she had sunk to the ground, and she hugged her knees to her chest as she sat hunched up against the wall. She had begun to cry, and though she didn't let out a single peep, she couldn't stop the silent tears that streamed down her face. She couldn't believe this was all happening.

She knew Chris was still alive; she could feel it in her heart. But how much longer would he have? And she knew of no way whatsoever of opening the portal. If only she could have been faster with the darklighter! If only she could have kept him from getting way, then she and Phoebe would have been able to wrangle more information out of him.

Piper bit down on her lip. What if Chris died? What sort of mother would that make her?

She thought of Leo. With a surging pain, she wanted desperately to see him. She wished he was with her. She wished he could whisper comforting words into her ear; he always knew exactly what to say. She wanted so badly to bury her face in his chest, to smell what was so distinctly _him, _to feel his hand run over her hair, to let him hold her together.

Even after everything he had done, even after how he had left them for the Elders, she still loved him. She knew she would always love him; it wasn't something she could control. And in a way, she knew the things he had done, the mistakes he had made, were the natural consequences of who he was. The greatest of qualities in a person could also be the source of his greatest flaws.

Leo was nothing if not a determined man, something which she so admired in him: he never gave up, no matter what. It was what made him such a great leader when a great leader was needed; it was what turned him into an Elder.

Leo was unendingly loyal. He would move heaven and Earth to help those for whom he cared. But he wasn't simply loyal when it suited him; no, he was _always_ loyal. He was loyal to his family and he was loyal to his work, to the Elders. How could she hold that against him?

Leo was good. It encompassed who he was and he encompassed it. She had always loved that in him; she had always been in awe and appreciation of it and felt that it kept her good too. And his goodness was what led him to want to help the world, to serve the world and the powers of good. She _knew_ she couldn't begrudge him that.

At the end of the day, he would always be her true love, as corny as it was to say. At the end of the day, he wasn't Leo the handyman or Leo the Whitelighter or Leo the Elder. He was just Leo. He was _her_ Leo. And she needed her Leo right now. She needed him to fix everything so she didn't have the burden of doing it herself. She needed him to fix her.

Her thoughts came to an abrupt end: Phoebe had finally returned, and together she and Paige were struggling to support a deathly pale Chris. Piper leapt to her feet, her mind running a thousand miles an hour. He looked so . . . _dead_. He looked like Paige in the memory; he looked like Prue when Leo had been unable to heal her. . . .

"How is he?" she asked, helping Paige sit Chris down. She supported him, letting him rest his head right beneath her neck and wrapping one arm around his torso while with the other she pushed aside the locks of damp hair that clung to his sweaty forehead. He wasn't shivering as he had been when she had last seen him; his face and lips had finally lost all color, and if she couldn't feel his slow, weakening pulse beneath her fingers, she would have thought him dead.

Paige didn't answer her question, but Piper hadn't really expected it of her. She could see for herself how Chris was: bad. Her estranged son with family issues and a tormented childhood was dying. "So what . . . what are we doing now?" Paige asked.

Piper shook her head. She was barely aware of the tears still spilling down her cheeks. "I don't know," she murmured, starting to rock back and forth. "I don't know."

"Okay, let's just think," Phoebe said, rubbing her temples and starting to pace slightly. "Portals, portals . . . what do we know about portals?" She looked at Piper, who only shook her head wordlessly.

"I've got nothing," Paige answered pathetically. "I've got . . . nothing."

"We have to know _something_," Phoebe declared desperately. "We're the Charmed Ones! One of us has to know about portals! Maybe if we do another spell! Huh? I bet a spell would reopen the portal!"

"Let's try it," Paige nodded. "It's the best shot we've got." Piper only gave a small, stiff nod of consent, hugging Chris a little closer to her.

"So, we start off with. . . ." Her voice trailed away and she stood there, amazed, her mouth even hanging open slightly. Paige looked much the same and Piper knew she probably did as well. The grayness that seemed to darken the ghostly plane was gone; it was as if they were in the actual manor again.

What was going on?

"Chris!" Leo shouted, running forward. Piper let out a strangled cry at the sight of him. Phoebe began laughing, clutching her mouth as tears leaked out of her eyes. Paige let out a few thick laughs, too, and she smiled widely at Phoebe, watching as Leo bent down and healed Chris.

Piper didn't know how he had done it; she couldn't even process what was happening, but she knew one thing: Leo had saved them. Didn't he always? He was, after all, an angel.

That's what angels did.

Chris gave a startling gasp, his eyes flickering open as color flushed his face. Leo stepped back, and slowly Chris pulled away from Piper, his eyes roaming around the room. "What happened?" he asked, pushing himself to his feet.

"That darklighter who shot you created a portal," Leo replied. "I think he was after me. For one reason or another, he wanted me trapped in that portal. I'm guessing he wanted you all to think both he and I had died in that explosion."

"How do you know all this?" Phoebe asked. "How did you get the portal open?"

"With a little help from Gideon," Leo said, returning the soft smile Phoebe gave him before reaching out a hand to pull Piper to her feet. She immediately embraced him, clutching him tightly and allowing herself a single moment to savor his smell and his warmth and _him._

When she pulled away she smiled tearfully at him. "Thank you."

He nodded, "Always."

"Why was the darklighter after you?" Chris asked. Piper glanced over at him. For someone who had been through hell in the last few hours, he didn't look at all fazed. A part of her was glad; that was the beauty of magic: he went from the brink of death to perfect health in a moment. Another part of her, however, desperately wished he would at least be touched emotionally by the situation.

Judging by the apathetic look on his face as he gazed at Leo, though, Piper was well aware Chris did not feel at all grateful to his father.

"I'm an Elder," Leo replied. "What more reason does he need?" There was a brief moment of silence before he looked as if he wanted to say something more. Afraid that he would ruin things with Chris, Piper spoke before he could.

"How about I make dinner? You know — a celebration of our success?" She glanced hopefully at Chris.

"Actually, Piper, we have another problem," Leo said, his voice thick. Piper felt her heart grow heavy. What now? "Salome attacked me," he went on softly, hesitantly, "and she kidnapped Wyatt."

Alarm swam through Piper. "What? When? How long ago?" she questioned, even as Phoebe exclaimed in murmured shock and Paige let out a huff of disbelief, her own alarm clear in her eyes.

"I don't know how long Salome had him; I was knocked unconscious when she took him. But a little less than about half an hour ago, I went to Gideon for help. He said he'd try and save Wyatt while I opened the portal and saved you all."

"Have you heard from him yet?" asked Paige.

Leo shook his head.

"Well, we need to help him," Piper said, her heart pounding. Should it really be that hard to keep both her sons out of life-threatening danger for more than thirty seconds? "Someone scry for Wyatt to see if they're above ground," she instructed.

"I'll do it," Phoebe volunteered, already starting up the stairs to the attic.

"And I'll get together some potions," Paige said, following her sister.

"See if you can sense Gideon, Leo," Piper told him. She was trying to stay rational; the last time Salome had taken her son she had completely lost it. She couldn't afford to lose it again.

"He must be in the underworld," Leo sighed. "I can't get a reading on him." The look of anxiety and frustration that swirled in his eyes wasn't lost on Piper; she knew her own eyes were probably a mirror reflection.

"I guess . . . we should help Phoebe, then . . .," Piper said, rubbing at her forehead. "Chris, what do you —?" She stopped mid-sentence, frowning in confusion. She looked back at Leo, who shook his head wordlessly.

How had neither of them noticed that Chris had disappeared?

* * *

"Salome Wentworth," he pronounced slowly, stepping out of the shadows.

The red-haired demonic witch slowly turned to face him. She really was hideous with that scar slashed across her face. If she hadn't been who she was, he imagined she could have been rather attractive. If her hair wasn't so ratty, the thick red curls would probably be the sort of the thing about which mortals sang inane love songs. Her face was pale and sallow and marred by the scar, but the skin was soft, a band of freckles stuck out on what was left of her nose, and there was a soft, enticing gleam in the dark gray eyes.

"An Elder in my humble abode," she hissed. "I'm _honored._"

His gaze skated past her to see the little blonde boy that sat on the table behind her. There were tear stains on his face, but he was perfectly still and calm as he glanced with soft, curious eyes at Gideon.

"Any demon with the ability to kidnap the child of a Charmed One is worth the distinction," Gideon replied smoothly.

"I didn't kidnap him," Salome countered. "I _borrowed_ him."

"I wasn't aware one could borrow children," he told her dryly.

"What you aren't aware of could fill a great many books, Elder," sneered Salome in reply. She glared at him, her gaze unwavering. He had heard she was a rather fearless demon, but then, weren't they all? _Even to their own destruction_, he mused.

"Be so kind, then," he said, "to answer me this: why would one such as yourself go to such lengths and take such risks to kidnap a baby whose family would and very well _could_ kill you slowly and painfully and without hesitance as punishment?"

"I do not fear the Charmed Ones," she spat.

"And what of me?" He stepped towards her. "Do you fear me?"

She grinned, and it made her face look even more revolting. He nearly winced at the sight. "Not at all," she said. "You won't kill me. If you kill me, then you won't be able to blame all your epic plans on me."

Gideon tensed. He should have expected this. Salome's power to see the future had vast reaches. Of course the repugnant creature would know of what he intended. He wouldn't let it faze him. "Why don't we make a deal, then?" he offered calmly.

"There is little you could offer me that would be worth my time," she replied.

"There are a great number of things I could offer you, actually," he said, stepping still closer to her. "You have nothing to lose by helping me and everything to lose by attempting to fight."

"Is that so?" she questioned, sneering once more.

"It's only a matter of minutes before the Charmed Ones, most likely with Leo and Chris, their resident Elder and whitelighter, come to the rescue of the child, and then where will you be?" asked Gideon.

"They wouldn't kill me," Salome told him, standing up proudly. "They _couldn't_. They would be rather upset, however, to see their trusted Elder trying to make a deal with the devil."

"You're hardly the devil, my dear," Gideon said, his eyes narrowed. This was more difficult than he had thought.

"No, apparently I'm his whore," and she gave another repulsive grin, showing off pointed yellow teeth. She turned slightly to the side and reached out a bony hand to affectionately pat down the blonde hair on little Wyatt's head.

Gideon said nothing, and Salome continued. "Do you know the stories, Elder, of how hell first began? Do you know of how an angel rebelled against goodness, fell from grace, and became the devil, ruling over all others who had fallen?"

This time it was she who stepped closer to him. "You better watch your step, darling Elder, or you'll find the goodness which your kind so exemplifies will have left you, and you'll be no better than the evil you claim to fight."

"I am doing everything in my power to _prevent_ evil," Gideon snarled, his hackles raised. He would not let this vile demon show him up. "If I must dirty my hands in the process with such unsavory creatures as you," he paused, "so be it. The greater good must be served. It _will_ be served."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night," she replied bitingly, tauntingly. She glanced upwards and then looked back at him with her awful little smile. "You'd better run, Elder."

"How's that?" Gideon asked, his mouth a thin line.

"Because the Calvary is about to arrive."

After all his years as an Elder, Gideon had grown powerful enough to sense an orb an instant before it appeared. He could feel it in the air. He knew when someone was about to appear magically in the room. He knew it now, even without her sneering warning.

"Consider my offer open-ended. You and I," he told her slowly, his eyes burning into hers, "we can be of service to one another." He orbed away, knowing that a moment after he was gone, Chris Halliwell would appear in the demonic cavern.

* * *

"It took you plenty long enough," she greeted.

Chris really did hate her. He could see Wyatt sitting unharmed on the table beside her, and it only took him a minute to evaluate the situation. Salome had been unsatisfied with what little information she'd been able to gather from Wyatt up until that point, so she had taken the liberty of getting some private time with him once more.

She didn't intend on hurting the baby boy.

"I was a little preoccupied," he replied, glaring at her. He turned his attention to the little boy. "Hey, buddy," he called softly. "Hey Wyatt. You okay?" To his relief, the little boy looked happy at the sight of him, gurgled in recognition and then orbed himself to stand before Chris.

Chris reached down and picked up his little big brother.

"Dealing with your own impending nonexistence?" Salome asked knowingly. She took great pleasure in holding her powers over everyone's heads. It was the one thing that Wyatt and he had ever agreed about concerning Salome Wentworth: she was too fucking arrogant.

Wyatt had chosen to deal with it by constantly reminding Salome that he was even _more_ powerful. Chris had decided simply to stay as far away from her as he could. She was everything he had been taught was wrong; she was the opposite of women like his mother, and the fact that someone such as Salome Wentworth was allowed to live while someone like his mother died young and brutally . . . it unsettled something within Chris.

"I have enough problems without you getting in the way," Chris told her tiredly. "The Charmed Ones do have the power to kill you, Salome. Wyatt did, you've seen that, and Wyatt came from them. Keep pissing them off, and they'll prove it to you."

"I could help you, you know," she replied, unfazed by his threatening warning. She came closer to him, her head cocked slightly to the side. "I could show you what you must do to save yourself. What you must do to give your parents a little nudge in the right direction."

"I don't need your help," Chris replied coldly.

"Don't be silly," she said. "You have a little over twenty-four hours left. And it's not as if I'll ask for anything large in return. . . ." She sidled closer still to him. "What if I help you and in return you give me protection from the Charmed Ones, should they choose to try and kill me? Hmm?" She gave a soft, temping little smile, and the scar that contorted her face shifted with the grin to flatten her nose and turn her expression into more of a grimace than anything else.

She reached out a hand to brush his hair from his face, and Chris felt his insides burn. He grabbed her wrist and twisted it, seeing a flicker of pain dart quickly across her face before he shoved her away from him. Did she really think he was just another version of his brother?

"Sorry, that doesn't work on me," he told her, glaring.

She didn't seem bothered. "Oh, no, well, then, how about a little something else . . . such as who's trying to kill your little brother?" she offered up, her eyes dark with delight. Chris tensed. There was always someone trying to kill Wyatt. He was the Charmed Ones' baby. If a demon could ever successfully off him, that demon would rapidly rise in the ranks.

Still, knowing who they'd have to fight off next to protect him was always useful.

"What if I add that this . . . _monster_ and his attack isn't something you'll see coming?" she said enticingly.

"And you want a Get Out of Jail Free card from the Charmed Ones for this information?" Chris asked, shifting Wyatt slightly on his hip. He suspected there was more to it than that; there had to be something more she wanted. He knew there was no way she was truly seeking protection.

"No," she shook her head. "I've changed my mind."

Chris sighed, biting his lip as his nostrils flared. She was as infuriating now as she was in the future. He didn't have time for this. He _did_ need to be working on keeping himself in existence. And this damn little . . . "What do you want?" he asked callously.

"A kiss," she replied.

Chris couldn't believe it.

"Come on now, what's one, itty-bitty kiss?" she questioned, her eyes boring into his, gray on green. "Give me one, and I'll tell you who's after your brother. And if it's good, I'll even throw in how to save your own existence. Hmm, what do you say?"

Chris knew how Salome Wentworth worked. He had known her for almost three years; he had seen her with Wyatt and he knew how her mind processed things, how she went about gaining what she wanted. But what she had never learned in the future and what she certainly didn't know now, was that he was just as good at manipulation as she was.

In fact, he was better.

He didn't know what she really wanted, what she was actually seeking, but he would learn that soon enough and he'd get what he wanted in the process.

He slowly set Wyatt down on the ground. The little boy looked up at him innocently. Staring at Salome, Chris reached down and put a hand on Wyatt's head, saying "to Piper" and orbing the boy to wherever his mother was. Chris was sure Piper and her sisters were frantic at this point, and he knew they'd appreciate having their precious child back under their watch.

"Don't want to ruin his innocence?" questioned Salome, her voice thick with a kind of twisted amusement. Chris didn't answer her. Instead, he took a few hurried strides towards her, gripped her upper arms tightly enough to bruise, and slammed his lips violently against hers.

**TO BE CONTINUED . . .**

A/N: I know right now you're probably exclaiming, "What the hell, Chris?!" but don't worry, a LOT will be explained in the next chapter, including both what Chris is doing and some clarifications on memories that the COs saw. Stay tuned! And because it always, without fail, completely makes my day -- please review! :)


	14. Chapter 14

_A/N: For your reading pleasure I present chapter fourteen! This one is a little different than the others, as you'll see, and hopefully it won't confuse you at all. As per usual: I do not own any rights to Charmed; I write only for enjoyment and no infringement is intended. Enjoy!_

* * *

He had used people to get what he wanted before now. It was wrong, he knew, and the first time he had used everything in his arsenal to manipulate another person, he had felt horrible. Her name was Sarah, and her father was a demon who worked for Wyatt. Her mother was a mortal, though, and she had been raised mortal. If there was evil in her bones, it stayed in her bones. She was as innocent as could be.

Still, she knew a great deal of useful information concerning her father — and even Wyatt — that would be useful, and that couldn't be ignored. When The Resistance had stumbled upon her, they had leapt at the opportunity, and she had been imprisoned. It was he who was charged with finding out what she knew, and it was he that had pretended to be another prisoner in order to do so. He had even forced a few of the others to give him a few good bruises before throwing him into the hold with her. He had earned her trust, and then he had used it to go after her father.

The entire time, he had thought of his mother and what she would say if she could see him manipulating and using a fourteen-year-old girl. Every time he looked at Sarah's long, pale face and her limp, dirty blonde hair, he saw his mother, her eyes wide with disappointment. And he could hear his mother's voice in his head when Sarah was killed in an attack on her father that had been orchestrated with information she had trustingly given him.

After a while, though, after one year and another and a third, he stopped thinking about his mother. She was dead, and he couldn't fault himself for doing what he had to do to keep anyone else from dying. There was certainly nothing wrong with manipulating Salome Wentworth.

He had backed her against a wall and as her fingers sank into his shoulders painfully, he bit down on her lip until he tasted blood. He could feel her chuckling, even as she took deep, gasping breaths. Finally he shoved her aside with such force that she fell to the ground.

He wiped his mouth on his sleeve as he glared down at her. He wasn't surprised to see the delighted gleam in her eyes as she looked up at him. "Does it make you angry, thinking of him? Do you ever wish you could _be_ him?" she rasped, "he, the powerful one, the twice-blessed one, the _loved_ one?"

"I don't need to be Wyatt," Chris told her darkly. "I'm better than him."

"Prove it."

* * *

"Chris!" she exclaimed in relief at the sight of orbs.

An instant later, Wyatt appeared before her, and she found herself staring at him momentarily dumbfounded. It didn't take her long, however, to run to her little boy and gather him up in her arms. "Wyatt," she murmured, pressing kiss after kiss to his little face and making him giggle and gurgle happily at the affection.

"Well, I did _not_ see that one coming!" said Paige, watching them with a small smile as she slowly lowered the bottle of herbs she had been about to pour into a potion without actually adding the ingredient.

"He doesn't look harmed," Leo observed from beside her.

"Thank god for that," Phoebe added, smiling as well and abandoning the map she had spent the last ten minutes bending over in a desperate search for her nephew and his kidnapper.

"Did he orb here himself?" Paige asked curiously.

"Oh, what a smart boy," Phoebe cooed. "Who's a smart boy?"

"If he knew to orb to us, why didn't he do it earlier?" asked Leo, and there was a clear note of suspicion in his voice. Piper frowned. She knew what he was thinking, as the very same thought had occurred to her a moment before.

"Chris," she said softly. Leo nodded.

"I thought he had disappeared?" Paige spoke as if it were a question, glancing between Piper and Leo.

"He did," Leo said, "but he must have disappeared because he knew where Salome had taken Wyatt. He went after her."

"He really does seem to know her, doesn't he?" Phoebe said, shaking her head slowly, as though it were a pity that such was the case.

"So, what, we think that Chris found Wyatt and Salome and sent Wyatt to us?" Paige asked.

"But then why didn't Chris just orb back with him?" questioned Phoebe, and her brow creased with the beginnings of a frown.

"Is he in danger, do you think?" Piper said, hugging Wyatt closer to her. "Do you think maybe Salome has done something to him? Maybe he was only just able to rescue Wyatt from her and then something . . . happened?" The very idea scared her, but another part of her knew that wasn't what had happened, and that part was saddened by the reality it knew.

"Or maybe he just didn't want to come back," Leo sighed, saying aloud what Piper could not. None of the sisters could think of an argument otherwise.

"I guess it would be pointless to call for him, right?" asked Paige, resigned.

"He won't come if we do," Phoebe agreed sadly. Again, there was a brief silence. Finally, taking a deep breath as if to clear her mind, Phoebe said, "Well, I guess I should check in at the paper. I haven't been by in a while and not even Elise can stand that for too long."

"Be home for dinner in a few hours," Piper told her.

"Of course," Phoebe assured, kissing Wyatt softly on the head as she passed him and left the attic.

"Wait, Phoebes!" Paige called suddenly, her eyes bulging slightly. Phoebe's head popped back into the room and she raised her eyebrows in question. "Let me give you a lift," Paige said, glancing shiftily at Piper and Leo.

"That's okay," Phoebe declined. "I can drive."

"No, _really_," Paige said, "let me take you." She crossed the room towards Phoebe, giving a small, tight smile to Piper on her way. "Besides, there are some things we need to talk about."

"Like what?" asked a puzzled Phoebe as Paige grabbed her arm.

"Oh, you know . . . _stuff_." She turned to Leo and Piper. "Call us if you need us! Bye now!" And though Phoebe started to say something again and Piper opened her mouth to ask if she was missing something, Paige paid no mind to either of them. She simply orbed away, taking Phoebe with her.

"I don't think she's been getting enough sleep," Piper said dryly. Shifting Wyatt slightly on her hip, she tried to keep her mind from becoming consumed with thoughts of Chris as she turned to Leo.

"I don't think any of us have," Leo told her softly. She broke her gaze with him, her mind running over her earlier thoughts of how much she loved him. There was no point in lingering on such feelings; they wouldn't do anyone any good.

"Listen, Leo," Piper began, not sure exactly what she intended to say. She knew she had to apologize for how she had treated him after Chris had almost been killed by Amaymon — although she had been right to be angry with him — and she knew she had to let him know that she didn't hate him us much as she had made it seem. But how was she to say all that without putting her heart too far out on the line?

Orbs interrupted her, however, and her attention turned to see that, to the disappointment of her suddenly hopeful heart, it was not Chris who appeared but Paige. "I thought you and Phoebe were going to 'talk' about 'stuff' for a little while?" Piper asked, using air quotes.

"Yeah, and we still are, but I just came back for a minute to see if I could look after Wyatt for you," Paige offered hurriedly, smiling uncharacteristically wide.

"What?" Piper frowned, a little thrown off.

"Wyatt?" said Paige. "I wanted to spend a little time with him. I see him so little I don't think he even remembers who I am at this point!" She let out a strange sounding laugh, patting Leo awkwardly on the shoulder as if he had just told a good joke and was laughing with her.

"Paige, are you okay?" Piper asked her slowly, glancing at Leo to see that he seemed to be just as bewildered as her.

"Who, me?" said Paige, looking surprised.

"Yes, you," Piper replied, more and more confused. She was definitely missing something.

"I'm fine!" Paige declared, waving her hand dismissively at Piper. "I'm fabulous even! But I do want to spend some time with Wyatt. You don't mind, do you? I'll take great care of him; I pinky swear!"

"I'm not worried you won't take good care of him," Piper began. "But —"

"Great? Then what's the problem?" Paige asked, looking at Piper with a suspiciously blank face.

"There's no problem. . . ."

"Wonderful!" Paige exclaimed, holding out her arms for her baby nephew. Too tired to deal with whatever it was her sister was doing, Piper conceded and handed over her son to an eager Paige.

"Okay, well, I'm going to go now, and I _promise_ I won't be back _any_ time soon!"

"Paige," Piper began again.

"You two kids have fun!" And giving a little, childish wave, Paige orbed away again, this time with Wyatt in tow.

"Do you have any idea what that was about?" Piper asked, slowly tearing her eyes away from the spot at which Paige had stood a moment before and turning to look at Leo.

"Not a clue," he admitted, shaking his head.

And just like that, a curtain of awkward silence fell across them once more.

"I should probably go to the Elders," Leo finally brushed aside the silence. "They need to know what's happened." Piper nodded. Despite her agreement, though, she stopped him before he could orb away.

"What I told you earlier," she said abruptly, timidly seeking out his gaze. ". . . I was angry. I shouldn't have said all the things that I did. I can't fault you for becoming an Elder, Leo, and I know you didn't want to leave your family. And you . . . even though you've made mistakes, you're still the man I love. You'll always be the man I love." _And I'll always love you._ "That will never change."

His eyes burning into hers, Leo reached out a hand and softly cupped her cheek. "Thank you," he murmured. She nodded, casting her eyes down. This was a little too much for her.

His hand dropped away. He cleared his throat, and she wondered if there were tears gathering in his eyes. She didn't know if she wanted there to be or not. "Call me if you need me," he told her, "for whatever reason." Again, she only nodded.

Before he could even begin to orb, however, a swirl of purple appeared, startling them both, and a moment later Gideon stood before them. "Ah!" the older Elder exclaimed at the sight of Piper, "I see the Charmed Ones have been saved. Very good, Leo." Gideon smiled.

Leo nodded. "I healed Chris, too. And Wyatt —"

"Has been rescued by Chris," Gideon finished for him, still smiling. "Yes, just as I orbed to Salome I felt Chris orbing, too. I left the job to him as, after all, it is not the duty of an Elder to meddle in such affairs as I was. When I knew someone else was helping the boy, I returned to Magic School."

Piper scoffed to herself. Even Leo's beloved Gideon spoke of the Elders in that way she hated: it was not their 'duty' to 'meddle' in 'such affairs.' Piper really did hate those damn Elders.

"Thank you for trying to help, though," Leo said, sending his mentor a grateful glance.

"Of course," Gideon nodded his head. "But now I must be on my way," he paused, looking meaningfully at Leo when he added, "as should you."

But before either Gideon or Leo could leave, Piper spoke up, asking Gideon, "Wait, hold on — did you actually _see_ Chris? Did you see what happened?"

"Has Chris not returned?" Gideon questioned, looking confused.

"He sent Wyatt safely to us," Leo explained, "but he hasn't come back."

"And you think him in danger?" said Gideon, glancing back and forth between Leo and Piper.

"Not necessarily," Leo admitted, almost shyly, "he may have just not _wanted_ to return." There was a brief paused before he defended, "He likes to go off on his own sometimes."

"I see," Gideon replied slowly.

"We were just wondering if you had spoken with him or seen what happened between him and Salome," Piper said, not sure she liked the look on Gideon's face.

Gideon sighed. "I'm afraid I can be of no help. I only sensed Chris orbing; I neither spoke to him nor saw him speak to Salome. I apologize."

"No," Leo shook his head, "there's no need."

No one said anything. Gideon seemed to be expecting something. Piper suspected she knew what it was, but Leo was making no move to leave, and she felt a kind of vindictive happiness. Leo wasn't going to abandon them to go off to Elderland. He wasn't liked Gideon or any of the other Elders.

Gideon appeared to come to the same conclusion. "I ought to be on my way, then," he said finally. His eyes boring into Leo, he asked, "Will you be joining me?"

Leo sent Piper the barest of glances. "Ah, yes, of course, but in just a minute." He gave Gideon a small smile.

Gideon took in a deep breath. "Very well," he said. "But do not take too long. If that darklighter who attacked Chris really was after you, then you can not continue to take too many risks. You belong with us now, Leo. Do not forget that."

Piper had the overwhelming urge to punch him, to give him a real, nose-breaking sucker-punch.

"I won't," replied Leo. "I haven't."

At that, Gideon finally orbed away, leaving Piper and Leo alone once more. The awkwardness that ensued was worse than it had been between them in weeks. Piper's head was still running amok with a thousand different thoughts, trying to make sense of Paige's strange behavior, trying not to worry about Chris, and trying desperately not to lose it over everything with Leo.

"I guess I should go, then. If you hear from Chris or need me or just —," he let out a nervous laugh, "— just want to talk or anything, call me." Piper nodded.

"No matter what, just call," Leo repeated.

"I will," Piper assured softly.

She couldn't stop him from leaving. He had to go. But she didn't want to be alone. She wanted company, _his _company. She wanted to talk to him about Chris, to find out from his own mouth how he felt about the whole situation, to tell him how _she_ felt about it all. But he had to go.

Still, when he started to orb, she couldn't help but call out his name. He looked hopeful as he reappeared fully before her. "I know you can't spend too much time down here," she said hastily, "but you're going to be down here a lot to help save Wyatt, so until we do, then you really . . . you don't. . . ." She wasn't sure what she was trying to say. "You . . . I was about to start dinner . . ." she told him, "and I don't really want to be alone." She looked at him sheepishly. "Want to stay and help? And then . . . maybe stay for dinner?"

It only occurred to her after she had spoken that maybe he would decline. The possibility of it was like a slap to the face.

"I'd love to," he replied.

Her heart warmed at the words.

* * *

He could still remember the day his mother had tried to tell him about sex.

It hadn't gone well as she got tongue-tied over and over again and he had wanted to disappear from the face of the Earth. No eleven-year-old boy wanted to have _that_ talk with his mother. But Piper Halliwell insisted, and so he had been forced to bear it.

She had told him that even though other boys might not make it seem like it was, sex was something special and should only be done with someone you truly loved. He had only whined that, "I know, Mom, you don't have to tell me this!"

Five years later when he had sex for the first time, he wasn't in love. It wasn't something special. But his mother had been dead for years, so what did it matter? The girl was pretty, Chris remembered, and she was two years older than him. She was Wyatt's girlfriend, but they were fighting, and she had tried to seduce Chris to get back at Wyatt because, as she said, Chris was the only person about which Wyatt actually gave a damn.

Chris had known what she was doing, but he didn't stop it from happening, because she was saying things only Penny had ever said to him: he was better than Wyatt, he was worth more than Wyatt, and there was more reason to love him than there was to love Watt. He couldn't very well sleep with Penny because, well, that was wrong on too many levels.

But there was nothing wrong with his thin, gangly awkward sixteen-year-old self sleeping with Casey Bridges, and so he did. He hadn't liked it. And after Wyatt had found out, he'd patted him on the back; his words somehow made Chris feel even worse. "I knew you were a man somewhere under there," he'd laughed. "Good job, little brother."

His mother had been wrong. Sex didn't mean anything.

He was growing lighter and lighter every minute and it shouldn't have been a surprise when his hand disappeared. She let out a sneering laugh at the sight. He smacked her across the face with the other hand and looked at her with burning eyes as she slowly wiped away the blood that dripped from her nose. "You _are_ like him," she said slowly.

"He _is_ my brother," he replied coldly. He had found a bottle of some sort of dark, murky alcohol, the kind she was always drinking in the future, and he had broken it open and taken a few swigs. It burned down his throat and tasted terrible, but it was warm in the pit of the stomach, and he supposed that was all that mattered.

She sat on the stone table, watching him with keen eyes as he walked away from her and came to stand on the opposite side of the table, leaning on it as he took another swallow of the drink, not meeting her gaze. "Are you going to tell me what I want?" he asked her after a moment.

"Are you asking who is after Wyatt or are you asking what you _really_ want?" she questioned, her voice taunting. When he didn't reply, she went on, "It always killed you, didn't it, that he was the best at everything and you were only ever _second_ best? He was the first son, the beloved one, and you were just the accidental second one. Everything you did he did first and he did it better. He was the powerful whitelighter and powerful witch, and you were powerful, too, but second to him.

"You were always second," she taunted.

"I think I know my future as well as you do," he snarled. "There's no need to remind me."

She wasn't intimidated. "What do you want Chris? Do you want to know who's after Wyatt? Or do you want . . . _me_?" The grin she gave him made her marred face even more disfigured, but he didn't blink as he gazed hatefully at her.

"Why would I want you?" he spat.

"Because," she smirked, jumping down from the table and slowly coming towards him. "This is your chance to have something he hasn't had . . . _yet_."

He tipped his head back and drank what was left of the nasty drink.

She ran her hand over his cheek, and her nails were pressed to his skin, leaving a pink impression behind. "What do you say?"

* * *

At some point, he started to pretend. He didn't know if it was a conscious choice or not, but it didn't matter now. He was lost in a world of his own making, of his own imagination run rampant. And, despite knowing it was wrong, despite knowing it wouldn't last, he couldn't stop it from happening. He wouldn't regret it, either. He could never regret a moment with her.

They'd been in the kitchen for over an hour before moving things to the living room, and all the while he had been pretending. He pretended that they were still together. He pretended that he got a chance to fail utterly at making mashed potatoes every night, and that every night he got to hear her laughing and teasing him as she took the bowl away from him and finished the potatoes herself.

He pretended that he got to see her splattered with flour from making biscuits every day; he pretended that it was perfectly acceptable for him to reach out and gently wipe the flour from her face. He even pretended that the only reason he didn't lean down and press a kiss to her smiling lips was because he would get a chance to kiss her — and much more — later that night.

He pretended that he'd been beside her at the grocery store when she'd bought the wine that she opened after she put the roast in the oven. He pretended that there was no reason not to let her pour him a glass, that there was no reason not to sit beside her on the couch as he drank the wine and toasted silly things with her, one of the few whimsical activities she enjoyed.

He pretended that, for just a few hours, they were Leo and Piper again, _only_ Leo and Piper, and there was nothing to come between them or separate them from one another.

At first, before he had begun to pretend, it had been awkward. They had bumped around each other in the kitchen, not knowing quite what to say. She had mentioned Chris, talking about how desperately she wanted to get close to him, and he said the same. Somehow, though, they couldn't talk about Chris. It was easier to stick to safer subjects, and it was around the time he realized it that he began his game of pretend.

When the phone rang, Leo answered it without hesitating. He and Piper had been laughing a moment before, and there was still a smile on his face as she poured herself more wine and he said into the cordless, "Hello?"

"Hi, ah, is this the Halliwell residence?" asked a male voice, one which was obviously nervous.

"Yes," Leo answered cheerfully, grinning at the sight of Piper making a face as she realized the wine bottle was empty.

"Ah, then, could I please speak with Piper?"

Suddenly, the warmth in the pit of Leo's stomach cooled slightly.

"Piper?" he repeated, wondering what male would be calling for her. It didn't sound like anyone who worked at P3.

"Yes?" Piper asked softly beside him, responding to the sound of her name even as the man on the phone said, "Halliwell, Piper Halliwell. Is she there? Can I talk to her?"

"Can I ask who's calling?" questioned Leo, his happiness deflating rapidly as his world of pretend began to fade away.

"John," the man said, "John Andrews." When Leo said nothing, the man went on sounding slightly confused," I'm a friend of her sister, Paige. She — Paige, I mean — talked about Piper and I going out sometime, and the last time I talked to Piper I told her I'd call, so . . . I'm calling. Is she there?"

"No," Leo said sharply. "She's not. And she's really busy right now. I don't think she'll be available to go out any time soon."

"Ah, okay," John Andrews replied slowly. "Well, can you tell her I called anyway?"

"Sure," Leo dismissed, clicking the end button before the man could get another word in.

"Who was it?" asked Piper curiously.

"John Andrews," Leo answered honestly. He saw Piper stiffen slightly.

"Are you two going out?" he asked, unable to stop the accusatory tone in his voice.

"We talked on the phone one night a little while ago before everything went crazy," she explained. "I wasn't actually that interested in going out with him. I mean, he's nice enough, but with things as busy as they've been the last few months. . . ." Her voice trailed off. "I'm sorry."

Leo felt a slight flush of guilt for the cold gaze he had given her after hanging up. He knew he wasn't being rational. She _did_ have a right to move on. He couldn't expect her to be alone for the rest of her life. And the last few hours . . . well, it had only been pretend.

"Don't be," he told her gently. "It's okay to move on. I want — I want you to be happy."

It honestly took him by surprise when she crossed the little distance that was left between them on the couch and pressed a kiss to his lips. She pulled away, looking rather shocked at her own actions, and a small blush crept up her cheeks.

Then it wasn't about what was real and what was pretend. It was about the fact that he was a male and she was a female, a beautiful, perfect female whom he loved more than he had ever thought possible, and she was right there before him, her warmth and smell seemingly surrounding him.

She turned away and started to get off the couch, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm, a hand that yanked her back to him so he could give her a real kiss, the kind he had so missed. She melted into him the way she had once done often, and though it took a moment for them to remember one another, the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her on his tongue as she opened her lips willingly to him, it was the most familiar thing in the world.

When they broke apart, Leo couldn't help the words that spilled from him as his forehead rested against hers and their breath swirled together between them. "I have to go back to the Elders, and I can't keep spending time down here," he said softly. "And you have to move on. But . . . can't we just have a proper goodbye?"

"We never got to say goodbye," she whispered, her dark eyes a hair's breadth from his. "Not a real goodbye."

He kissed her hungrily again, and maybe the fact that they were on the couch downstairs in plain sight of anyone who might enter the house was a sign that neither of them were thinking straight, but to realize that they would have had to be thinking in _any_ way.

And as Leo pulled her shirt over her head, as he trailed kisses along her collar bone, as he felt her small hands slipping under his own shirt and broke away from her to tear it off, he wasn't thinking about anything but _her_.

Piper, his beautiful, strong, sarcastic, perfect _Piper_ . . . with that little kink in her eyebrow, and the swirl of freckles on her left shoulder, and the little bit of baby fat from Wyatt's pregnancy that had never gone away, and the soft catch in her gasp when he kissed her right _there_ . . . "Piper," he moaned.

If a person could be born in the world for the sole purpose of loving another person, he knew he was born to love Piper Halliwell, and as she wiggled out of her jeans, as their kisses turned sloppier and sloppier, that was all that mattered.

At one point, while he tried to get his slacks off, they tumbled off the couch and the air flew out of them. She only laughed, however, reaching behind her back to unhook her bra, and then . . . he truly was gone. He managed, though, as he hovered over her and was peppering her face with kiss after kiss, to ask softly, "Are you sure?"

Her arms wrapped tightly around his bare back, her thighs securely clamped on either side of his waist, she whispered firmly to him, "You're the only thing I've always been sure of, Leo."

And when they were finally truly together again for the first time in months, and for what might very well be the last time, he didn't say goodbye. Instead, kissing away the tears that leaked softly down her soft cheeks, he whispered, "I love you."

* * *

The first innocent person he ever killed was named Daisy.

He had met her in Australia and had been immediately taken with her bouncy red curls and bright brown eyes. She had lived next door to Billie and she had found Prue adorable, even going so far as to offer to babysit the little girl whenever Billie was busy.

He had only been down under for a few weeks, just long enough to drop Prue off with Billie and make sure she was settled and safe. He had to get back to San Francisco and back to The Resistance, especially before Wyatt tracked him and found the last safe place Chris had to hide Prue.

But it had been good to see Billie again and Prue hadn't wanted him to leave, so he had ended up staying longer than he had originally planned, and he grew close to Daisy. He hadn't even been suspicious when he'd learned that Daisy had only moved next door a few weeks before Chris himself had arrived with Prue in tow.

It was through a series of coincidental events that Chris learned the truth. Daisy, despite being a mortal, was working for Wyatt. She didn't know Wyatt was evil and she didn't know Chris was his brother. All she knew was that Wyatt, a wealthy and powerful American, had assigned her to watch Billie and report back to him if the older blonde woman had any guests.

Billie had only just barely managed to escape with Prue, and to this day Chris didn't know where they had gone. It was probably better he didn't. He knew Billie would keep Prue safe, as the woman was both powerful enough to do so and was, more importantly, ardently loyal to the Charmed Ones, which meant she would do all she could to protect one of their children.

The only reason Billie had been able to get away with Prue before Wyatt could arrive on the scene, however, was because Chris had cut off Wyatt's source of information: he killed Daisy. It took him a long time to forget the look on her face, in her eyes, as the life slowly disappeared.

He still didn't like killing people, not even years later. But he had come to accept that sometimes it was a necessary evil and couldn't be avoided.

Salome let out a gasp, and Chris didn't know if it was from pain or surprise. He didn't care. He only dug the knife deeper into her stomach, ignoring the blood that slowly leaked out of her mouth and smeared across his cheek as he pulled away from her and she fell onto her back, curling around the knife still buried in her. He glanced at his hand and smiled. His existence had been re-affirmed.

Everything really was happening as he wanted.

"Didn't see this one coming, did you?" he sneered, standing to his full height as he looked down at her disdainfully. Killing her wasn't the same as killing Daisy. Salome was and would always be a demon, and that was explanation enough. He slowly wiped the blood off his cheek.

"You think you know me because you've seen into my future," Chris told her, reaching down and pulling out the knife only to plunge it in again. She lifted her arm to use her magic but he raised his foot and smashed her hand into the ground. She let out a howl of pain.

"You think you can control me because you can see so soon into the future that you believe you can nearly read my mind and predict every move I make," he went on, slamming his foot into her other hand for good measure, and feeling a rush of satisfaction as he heard her fingers crack and break.

"What you obviously didn't see in the future, though," he continued, "was that I _know_ you, Salome. I know how you work. And I know that the only way to beat you, the way that Wyatt beat you, was to compartmentalize. It's simple, really. If I think of something in the front of my mind, if I plan it, then it's the future you'll see.

"And you won't see what I really plan on doing."

She hissed at him, and he only gave her a deprecating grin in reply.

"You won't die right now," he said. "A few stab wounds isn't enough to bring you down, you know that. But you are weak enough for me to kill you _for real_. So how about we make another deal. You tell me who goes after Wyatt — and anything else I want to know — and I won't kill you.

"What do you say?"

* * *

She didn't know why it didn't occur to her earlier. She didn't know why she hadn't thought of it at all in _weeks._ Perhaps it was because Chris had never really mentioned it after that first time. Perhaps because it was too much to comprehend when she could barely grasp that he was her son. But for whatever reason, she hadn't thought of it until after.

It had been strange to have Leo helping her in the kitchen after all the months apart, and she knew that she shouldn't have invited him; if she let down her guard, all the time and energy she had spent emotionally distancing herself from him would be lost. But she couldn't help it: the more minutes that passed, the more she opened up to him, until it was as if the last year hadn't happened and everything was as normal as it could get for them.

And then they had somehow ended up making love on the floor of the living room. She didn't regret it. She wanted it. She wanted to be with him one last time; she wanted to have a chance to memorize every little moment so that, when he was finally gone for good and she was truly alone, she could cherish each and every little minute moment she had memorized.

It honestly hadn't occurred to her until after they had finished and Leo had begun to dress, unable to look at her, that she had _needed_ to sleep with him. It had simply come to her out of the blue, taking her completely by surprise but with such weight that, despite her shock, she _knew _it to be true. Staring straight in front of her in something of a daze, she murmured the words to herself. It was true. It had to be. She had gone off the pill quite a while ago.

"What?" asked Leo softly. "Did you say something?"

"Yes," she answered, still staring off into space. Phoebe and Paige had known. They had to have known. That's why Paige had been acting so strange; that's why they had taken Wyatt away. They had wanted her and Leo to be alone. Was that why Chris hadn't come back? Had he been in on it, too? But how could they have possibly known it would work? Did they think Piper had realized what they wanted or were they counting on her heart getting the better of her head, as it had?

"Piper?" Leo said, sounding concerned. He had paused halfway through buttoning his shirt. She hadn't even started to get dressed yet. She was leaning against the couch, wrapped up in the green throw blanket Phoebe had bought at some department store a few months ago. "Is everything okay?" he pressed.

"I'm pregnant," she told him.

"What?" he exclaimed, and she finally turned and looked up at him to see his face frozen in shock. "You — you —," he sputtered.

"I'm pregnant," she repeated. "I have to be. Think about it." She turned away from him, letting out a humorless laugh.

"Is that why —?" Leo began, his voice strained. "Did you plan to —?"

"What? No," Piper assured him. "I wasn't thinking about that at all when we . . ." she looked up at him with a soft smile. "I just wanted to be with you one more time. And I don't regret that. But maybe a part of me knew, I don't know, subconsciously or something, that I needed to get pregnant or else Chris wouldn't exist anymore. . . ."

She had turned away from him again, and she could feel his gaze on her face.

"So you're pregnant?" Leo asked softly.

"Unless you plan on having unprotected sex with me again, yes, I'm pretty damn sure I'm pregnant, Leo. That, or Chris isn't going to be around for much longer." Suddenly, the full weight of it slammed into her again. She wrapped her arm around her stomach, as if she could feel Chris within her. He was. A little innocent, baby Chris was inside her, one for which she would care and love and never leave hurt and alone, never leave to become the scarred boy that she knew as the twenty-something Chris from the future.

Orbs began to materialize before them and Piper impulsively clutched the throw blanket closer to her before both her sisters appeared in front of them in the middle of an argument. "— don't think a love potion is the way to go, Paige," Phoebe was saying, shaking her head.

They both froze at the sight of Piper and Leo. It was obvious what had happened, considering their state of undress, and Piper didn't bother saying anything in explanation. "Hi," she greeted breezily. "Where's Wyatt?"

"With Shelia," Paige said slowly, even as a grin spread across her face. "Did you two do the deed?" she asked, smiling widely now. Phoebe smacked her in the shoulder. "What? It's nothing to be ashamed of!"

"Yes, Paige," Piper said wearily, pushing herself to her feet, "we 'did the deed' as the two of you were hoping."

"Wait, what?" asked Leo, confusion clear on his face yet again as he hastily tried to finish buttoning up his shirt and buckle his belt.

"Phoebe and Paige purposely left us alone in hopes that we would have sex and conceive Chris," Piper explained briefly to him, "which we did," she told her sisters, "so if you came back worrying we wouldn't, there was no need."

"We can see that," said Paige, who still had a silly grin on her face.

"But did you know that's what we were doing?" Phoebe asked. "Chris told us that he needed to be conceived soon but we were afraid to tell the two of you in case it, you know —"

"Gave you a case of performance anxiety," Paige said blandly. "We didn't want you getting stage fright or anything." Piper couldn't help but snort a little at her baby sister.

"We didn't know," Piper told them. "This happened . . . naturally." She glanced shyly at Leo and for a moment she could see a thousand different emotions swirling in his eyes as he held her gaze. And then he looked down, abruptly ending the connection.

"That's good," Phoebe said softly. "I would have hated for Chris to be conceived by a love potion. I was worried, though, that leaving you alone for a few hours wouldn't be enough, so Paige and I came back to try and come up with something else."

"I don't think he cared very much about us using a love potion," Paige replied, patting her sister on the back. "In fact, he probably wouldn't have minded if we'd just artificially inseminated Piper at this point."

"Probably with someone else," Leo said darkly, "so that he wouldn't have to be related to me."

"Aw, sweetie, don't say that," Phoebe protested, her eyes pitying as she gazed at him.

"Wait, so are we sure this worked? Piper's got a bun in the oven and all now?" Paige asked.

"She has to," said Phoebe, "Chris said it had to happen sometime today."

"What?" Piper asked sharply. How dire of a situation had it been?

"Yeah, he said he'd done all the calculations and that he needed to be conceived by midnight," Phoebe told her. Piper couldn't believe it. Had Chris really come _that_ close to not even existing? She tightened the arm that hugged her stomach, knowing she couldn't hug the grown-up Chris. He would never let her.

"Speaking of our little neurotic future nephew," Paige said, "I'm guessing neither of you has heard from him?"

Piper shook her head. "I was hoping maybe he was in on your plan to get us alone and that's why he didn't come back," she admitted.

"Sorry, honey," Phoebe shook her head. "If he did stay away to give you all some privacy, he didn't say anything about it to us." She paused, before going on with a slight frown, "But, actually, it _would_ have made more sense for him to come to us and help with a plan to get you two together. Maybe he _is_ in some sort of trouble."

"Great," Piper exclaimed, "when I try and keep myself from freaking out over Chris and not worrying about him, it turns out he really is in trouble. This is impossible!" Her mind flashed over all that had happened that day, over the darklighter's attack, their trip into Chris's mind, those horrible memories, Chris's near brush with the death . . . and then she thought of the last few hours when she had determinedly put Chris out of her mind only to end up doing something that once again came back to Chris.

"Maybe we should call him?" Paige suggested.

"Even if he's not in trouble," Leo said, nodding, "we need to make sure he's. . . ."

"Been conceived?" Paige offered up knowingly, and Leo gave her a blushing smile.

"Besides, we need to talk to him about some of the memories we saw," Phoebe said. "I think he needs to explain some things to us. We can never get close to him if we don't know anything about him or what he's been through."

"Seconded," declared Paige.

"Did you see more memories?" Leo asked Piper.

"Unintentionally," she answered him softly, as Paige and Phoebe had both begun to shout for Chris. She almost joined them, only to realize she ought to put some clothing on. She didn't need her son seeing her in this state, as if things weren't awkward enough between them.

"CHRIS!" Paige yelled again. "Yoo-hoo, dude! Chris!"

"Chris," Phoebe shouted while Leo watched silently. Piper knew he didn't think Chris would come if he shouted for him. Her heart tugged at the knowledge that it was probably true.

Piper sighed. Chris was already on his way, or should be, and there was nothing for it. He'd probably be happy to know that his existence was secured, anyway, even if it meant seeing her wrapped up in a blanket and _only_ a blanket.

A minute later, Piper was worried again. Paige and Phoebe had begun to exchange glances of similar concern. Chris wasn't coming. Was he just being distant and refusing to come as he had some vague 'stuff' to do or was he actually in trouble?

Again, Piper clutched her stomach.

* * *

"_CHRIS! Yoo-hoo, dude! Chris!_"

Their voices echoed in his head, and he could hear the growing concern that thickened with each shout, but he couldn't be bothered. They probably wanted to have a heartfelt conversation, and he had more important things to do.

He finished washing his hands in the sink and then sank down on his bed in the back of P3. He needed to get some sleep. It had been days at this point, and sleep would do him good. But did he have time? He glanced over at the jar that he'd placed beside his bed. It held a chunk of Salome's skin within it.

He'd get the sisters to make a potion with it, and that way he really could kill Salome if he wanted. How different of a future would that make? Would that mean he'd never meet Bianca? He had to meet Bianca. She had taught him . . . everything.

Manipulation always came at a cost: he had gotten what he wanted out of Salome, but who knew what it would mean. _An Elder is after him, you little bastard. _He hardly believed her, but after a few more minutes he was sure she was telling the truth. How was he supposed to respond to that information?

Sex _didn't_ mean nothing: he would never have slept with her, not for anything in the world. The only person he ever wanted to be with again was Bianca, because his mother had been right; sex was something you did with someone you loved. It was something special.

Killing the innocent was never excusable: that was why people like Salome Wentworth deserved to die. That was what made him different than a demon, different than _Wyatt._ That was what made him _better_ than Wyatt. Daisy's face still haunted him to this day and he knew it always would.

"_CHRIS!"_ Paige shouted in his head.

Chris only closed his eyes.

**TO BE CONTINUED . . .**

A/N: Now who followed all of that? As you all knew would have to happen, Leo and Piper came together for a little while, and I hope you thought it happened realistically :) I also hope you understand what Chris was doing the entire time and that the final section from his POV explained everything, but don't worry if it did not -- he'll be doing a little explaining to the COs in the next chapter and that should clear some things up!

As you should very well expect at this point, I will now beg of you to review: REVIEW! ;)


	15. Chapter 15

A/N: I'm so very sorry for the long wait! I hate to leave people hanging for this long, but real life kept getting in the way, as did the simple fact that I had a little trouble getting this chapter to flow the way I wanted it to. It's really more of a transitional chapter than anything else, but I hope you like it nonetheless :) I'll really try to get the next chapter up much sooner. As always, this story is AU after 6x12 Prince Charming, and I own no rights to anything Charmed. Enjoy Chapter Fifteen!

* * *

When he fell gracelessly to the floor, completely disoriented and rapidly blinking his eyes, she realized he must have been asleep when they summoned him. So he _hadn't_ been in danger. But he still hadn't come. He'd chosen to go to sleep instead.

And he looked angry that they'd woken him through a summoning spell. "I'm sorry," he said coldly, "did you people just _summon_ me?" He pushed himself to his feet, distractedly rubbing his eyes as he looked at them.

"We were worried," Leo told him. "You weren't responding to our calls."

"I was busy," Chris replied.

"Sleeping?" said Paige, raising an eyebrow at him. "Yeah, nice bed-head, buddy, really." Chris only let out a huff of disbelief.

"What's the problem?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Phoebe frowned. Had something _already_ gone wrong again? Honestly, they couldn't keep living like this. They had to take a break sometime.

"I mean why did you summon me?" Chris asked. "What's going on?"

"We were just worried," Piper explained.

"Why?" he asked.

"_Why_?" Phoebe repeated. Did he really think so little of them that he imagined they didn't even care about his whereabouts after he disappeared into thin air?

"Yes," he nodded his head slowly at her. "I sent Wyatt to you, didn't I? Wait — he's okay, right? Did something happen?" Concern swam across his face.

"He's fine," Piper replied. "I just put him down for a nap."

"We were worried about _you_," Phoebe said.

"Well, you didn't need to be; I'm fine."

"We see that," Paige said. "Do you feel light-headed or anything?"

His brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

"We need to figure out if you've been conceived or if they need to go at it again," Paige told him matter-of-factly.

"Paige!" Phoebe murmured tightly, glaring. Leo was blushing deeply and even Chris looked uncomfortable at her statement, his eyes darting nervously to Piper.

"I started to disappear earlier," Chris said, addressing himself to Paige and Phoebe only. "But then I reappeared entirely, so I'm pretty sure that we're all good."

"I'm pregnant," Piper said, and it seemed to Phoebe she was speaking more to herself than anyone else.

Chris nodded. "It's a boy," he told her.

Phoebe wasn't sure if he was trying to joke. No one knew quite what to say and Chris didn't seem interested in helping them at all. He crossed his arms over his chest and set a weary expression on his face, as if to tell them that they were the ones who had bothered him and he wasn't about to start chatting with them.

"We thought we should talk," Phoebe finally declared.

"About what?" he asked.

"The future," said Paige. "We need you to explain some things to us."

Chris scoffed. "Haven't we been over this before? I. Can't. Talk. About. The. Future." His emotion seemed to grow with each word.

"Yeah, well, whatever consequences might come from us knowing about the future are already on their way because we've seen one too many memories," Paige told him.

"Whose fault is that?" asked Chris patronizingly.

"That's not the point," Phoebe replied. "The point is that we want some explanations, and considering it can't do any more damage, there isn't a reason for you _not_ to answer some questions."

"Is there a reason that I should?" asked Chris, a dangerous glint in his eye. "Besides the fact that you're _curious_, I mean."

"Um, do we need another reason?" Paige raised her eyebrows at him.

Before Chris could give a biting reply to that, Phoebe added quickly, "you came back to change the future for the better, Chris. We want to help you. But we can't change something we don't understand."

She wanted to tell him that the only way they'd be able to reach out to him is if they understood what he'd gone through, but she doubted he'd have any interest in that. He wasn't exactly chewing at the bit to in any way acknowledge that he was their son and nephew.

"We're not doing this to hurt you," said Leo softly.

Chris looked away from them.

"Come on, dude, where's the trust?" prodded Paige in gentle teasing.

"What do you want to know?" he sighed.

Phoebe took a deep breath. They had to say this right. They couldn't scare him off.

The image of some sort of cute, furry, big-eyed animal appeared in her head, one that skittered off in terror at the first sign of movement. She swallowed and spoke in a voice soft but firm. "Why don't you just give us a general timeline? Tell us what all Wyatt did that led up to you coming here. We have most of the pieces, but if you could put them together. . . ."

"Why do you need to know that?" Chris replied. "If we save Wyatt, then none of that will matter." He made a good point . . . but, _still_. . . .

"Give us something to go on, here. We can't help you if you won't let us," Phoebe said gently, trying to catch his eye. "We're just asking for a little explanation. That's all. We know you've put so much at risk coming back here, and we're not trying to jeopardize anything."

He didn't say anything.

"Chris, please," Phoebe pleaded.

He began to shake his head slightly, saying quietly, "fine." He looked up at her and his face was emotionless as he repeated, much louder, "Fine. You want to know? Fine. I was nineteen," he declared. Phoebe exchanged the briefest of glances with Paige. Was he really about to . . . ?

"I was nineteen when Penny died. Coop and Melinda had both already died at the time. Coop died first — he never came home from school one day and two days later we found his body. Nobody knew which demon had gotten him. He was ten. I was fifteen at the time. Melinda died a year later. She disappeared just the way he did, but it was two weeks before she was found. She was dead; killed by an unknown demon. She was fourteen."

Phoebe's mouth had gone dry. He spoke in a thick, monotonous voice, and he was starting straight at her as he said the horrible words, as if he was saying, _See? This is what you've grudged up. Is that what you wanted to hear?_

"And when I was nineteen Penny and Pattie's dad — Paige's husband — was killed. Pattie saw it happen, and she tried to tell Penny, but then she was killed, too. Penny figured it out, went after Wyatt, and only just managed to find me in time and say his name before she died. But you already know that part of the story."

Phoebe felt as if someone ought to interrupt him with a hug or a reassuring hand squeeze or words of love and comfort — but if stopped, who knew if he would continue? It was like driving by a car accident and being unable to look away from the terrible wreckage.

"A little less than a year later, right after my twentieth birthday, I finally got to look into Wyatt's mind. I saw that he had murdered Penny — I saw the memory you saw. And I saw that he had killed Pen's dad and then Pattie when he realized Pattie had seen him. I saw that he had ordered demons to kill Coop and Melinda. I saw that he was evil.

"I confronted him. We started fighting. Phoebe — you — you —," he paused, and it seemed as if he suddenly realized the words that were pouring out of him. His jaw tightened. His eyes narrowed on Phoebe, as if he were only speaking to her. "You walked into the room. You didn't realize what was going on. You had Prue in your arms. A misaimed fireball was sent at her. You took the hit. You died."

He glanced away from her. "Your husband took your remaining children — Prue and Charlotte — and ran. Wyatt was going to kill Paige but I agreed not to challenge him if he let her live. She was sick, though, she had been for a while, and it was easy for him to lock her up. If you were in my head earlier, you know how that ended. I was twenty-two by then; Wyatt had already met Salome and I had already met Bianca. The Resistance had been formed.

"After Paige died I ran from Wyatt. But he went after your husband. He killed him. He killed Charlotte, too, and would have killed Prue if I hadn't gotten there in time. But I did, and I took Prue to Australia where I left her in the care of a woman named Billie who used to babysit us. You'll meet her in a few years.

"A few months later I traveled back in time."

The abrupt silence was deafening. Phoebe's mind was whirling, trying to process everything he had said and link it to all the scattered, out-of-order memories they had seen. And it all began to make sense. There was bile in her mouth, though. How could he have gone through all of that? How could _she_ have gone through all of that, through her children disappearing and showing up dead, one after another?

She suppressed a shutter.

"That's it. That's what led to where we are. I can't tell you anymore. That's all I came back to change and that's all that matters. Please, just leave it at that." There was a strain in his voice as he spoke, and he seemed suddenly to be pleading with them. _Please_, he had said. Phoebe felt herself flush. Did she really want to know all that he had just told them?

Or had he been right in insisting it should stay his knowledge and his knowledge only?

"Where — where was I in all of this?" Leo asked, his voice cracking slightly. "Can you just — can you tell me that?"

"You weren't around."

The wave of Leo's pain that crashed into Phoebe nearly made her cry out.

"How was Wyatt able to do all of this for so long before anybody knew?" Paige asked. Chris ran a hand through his hair, grinding his teeth as he looked away from them. He never got the chance to answer, though.

"It doesn't matter," Piper said suddenly, speaking up for the first time in a while. Everyone glanced at her, even Chris. She straightened slightly, seeming to radiate authority as her eyes landed firmly on Chris. "It doesn't matter," she repeated. "We don't need to know. We're going to save Wyatt and none of that future is going to happen."

Chris nodded before looking away so quickly it was a shock his neck didn't crack.

"Okay," Paige said softly, conceding. "No more questions. I got it." She gave Chris a reassuring smile. Phoebe did the same. It was time to let well enough alone. They'd been pestering him about his past too much. They should be focusing on making a new future.

"Now, then," Piper went on, "who wants to — to have dinner?"

"Sounds good to me," Phoebe said, still gazing at Chris. Her mind was flashing to images of the little girls she'd seen in the memories; of the one who'd been sick at Piper's funeral and had wanted to be taken home and the one who had clung so pitifully to Chris with her Lion King backpack. She didn't even know them but she wanted to protect them, to save them . . .

. . . from Wyatt . . .

. . . her beloved nephew, the one-day killer who would slaughter his own family.

"I'm famished, personally," declared Paige. "Can you make mashed potatoes? I'm feeling a mashed potatoes kind of mood coming on." Phoebe knew her little sister was trying to lighten the mood, perhaps make Chris more comfortable. It didn't help.

"I'm not hungry."

"You've got to be," argued Piper.

He looked up at her, his face apathetic once more. "I'm not."

"Yes, damn it, you are!" she exclaimed. "And if you ever loved me at all, Christopher Halliwell, if I was ever a good mother to you, then you _will_ come eat dinner with me so I stop thinking I'm the world's worst mother!"

"I need to check on some things," he replied slowly. Phoebe could nearly feel Piper's heart deflating. "But I'll be back in a few hours. Will it be ready by then?"

Phoebe fought a smile. Would a smile scare him?

"Yes," Piper said with her voice forcedly calm. Phoebe knew her sister was fighting smiling too widely as well. "Don't be late." He nodded and started to orb only for Piper to shout out and stop him.

"I won't be late," he promised.

"I know, I know, I just . . . is there anything in particular you want?" Piper asked. Phoebe felt herself smiling again. The excitement in her sister's voice was clear. How had they gone from discussing the terrible past to planning an actual family event? She laughed to herself. Only Chris could turn dinner into an "event" for the Halliwell family.

"No."

Piper nodded. She seemed a little less excited. "Okay, then," she said. "One hour."

He seemed about to orb again but this time he stopped himself. He wasn't looking at any of them. "Homemade gravy," he said gruffly. "I like homemade gravy." And then he orbed away.

Piper looked like Christmas had come early.

* * *

Christmas might have come early that afternoon, but it turned out to be the worst Christmas they'd ever had.

Chris didn't show up.

At around two hours they began to wait for his arrival. Paige had taken a shower and was lounging around the kitchen, helping Piper set the table and put all the dishes out. Phoebe had sent some e-mails for work and done her nails, and she was flipping through a magazine at the table, ready and waiting.

At about two and half hours Leo orbed in from where ever it was he had gone off, and he poured himself a glass of water before sitting at the table. Very soon it had been three hours. Piper frowned for the first time. "He should be here any minute, right?"

But he didn't come any minute. At three and a half hours, Paige orbed over to the club to see if he was getting ready. But he wasn't there. She orbed up to the bridge, wondering if perhaps he had gotten lost in thought up there. He wasn't there, either.

Nobody wanted to call for him. He couldn't have forgotten, and if they called for him it would be admitting that he was purposely not coming. And he had to come. If he didn't come now, would he ever come?

Phoebe's mind ran over everything she had heard that day, all that they had forced out of him. It had been rather sudden, if she really thought about it. After so long refusing to tell them anything, the fact that he had let out a long spiel of the future was either really good or really bad.

It was good if it meant the walls he had built around his heart had finally crumbled and he was going to be completely open and honest with them. It was bad if it had been forced out of him in a moment of frustration. It was bad if he had only told them in an attempt to throw them a bone and keep them content and off his back. If that was the case, then their relationship was worse than ever.

And it seemed that was the case, because three hours melted into four hours. Piper's food was going cold, Leo was growing more and more broody, Paige had fallen asleep on the couch after giving Piper an apologetic smile and pat on the arm, and Phoebe had read the same magazine three times.

"I guess he's just . . . not coming," Piper finally said.

"I'm sorry, honey," Phoebe told her.

"It was too much to expect, right?" Piper sighed, not meeting Phoebe's gaze. She began to put away the untouched dinner, clearing off the table and packing it all into Tupperware. No one said anything. They'd all have to get dinner elsewhere. Leo orbed away again, unable, it seemed, to provide any comfort.

Paige awoke and, deciding she was as helpless as Leo, left to go to the club. Piper started to open herself a bottle of wine, only to stop, remembering her brand new pregnancy. The look on her face was like a knife to Phoebe's gut.

"Maybe we should just try calling for him?" Phoebe suggested softly.

"What's the point?" Piper snapped. She left the kitchen.

Phoebe kept waiting, and when five hours had passed since he'd left the house promising to return, Phoebe had eaten burnt toast and leftover pudding, abandoned her magazine in favor of staring off in to space unhappily, she finally gave up too.

She drove to the club.

He wasn't there.

She drove home and went to bed, wishing she could go forward in time and stop her future self from leaving Chris by himself at Piper's funeral. Maybe that would have made all the difference.

Maybe it wouldn't have.

* * *

This was the exact location of the first place he had ever gotten truly drunk. It had started with a single beer. It had ended in a mess of too many drinks that made him wonder why he didn't end the night having his stomach pumped in the hospital.

It had been right before his eighteenth birthday. His mom, Cooper, and Melinda were all dead. And his grandfather had just discovered that he had advanced lung cancer. He wasn't supposed to live more than six months. He had been devastated, and he had ended up drunk off his ass in the middle of the city park.

Penny had found him eventually. She'd convinced him to go home and had then spent the night on the floor of the upstairs bathroom with him as he cried his heart out to her and puked his guts out into the toilet.

He could get drunk now.

But Penny wouldn't be there to take care of him.

Who would?

_Piper._

The thought came immediately. He could drink until he was seeing spots and if he went by the Manor, she would take care of him. He knew it instinctively.

And he fucking hated it.

It had taken him a long time to get used to her never being around, to his grandpa never being around, to Penny never being around . . . to having _no one_ around. Everybody died. And now he was getting used to have people truly care about him once more. The way Piper looked at him, the way she spoke to him, the way she _defended _him. . . .

How the hell did they expect him to go back to a world where she was dead? Where they were all dead? It wasn't fair! He scoffed at the thought. To complain that life wasn't fair was to imagine there to be some sort of cosmic scorekeeper standing on the sidelines of the world and keeping tally.

That wasn't how it worked.

He couldn't believe they had actually _summoned_ him. They had fucking _summoned _him! And then they had said they were _worried _about him before asking — _begging_ — for information they didn't need to know. Did they honestly think he refrained from them telling them about the future for fun?

And he had broken under the pressure. It had shut them up, just as he wanted, and he hoped it was enough to keep them satisfied for a while. It had really been perfect in a way; if he had persisted in refusing to tell them anything, they would have been on his case every moment of every day. Hopefully they would back off now.

But he had underestimated how much saying all of that would affect _him._

As if the looks on their faces weren't enough, he also had to contend with the swirl of emotions that came to life as the memories of the disappearances and deaths and pure fucking _evilness_ came to his mind.

He hadn't been able to refuse Piper's offer for dinner, but it would have been a disaster to go. It had only taken him five minutes to realize that. Five minutes away from them and he knew he couldn't handle dinner with them for way too many reasons to count. If he didn't go, maybe that would make them think twice about grilling him.

He imagined how upset Piper must have been at his standing them up.

He looked down at the unopened bottle of beer in his hand.

Paige would be upset, too; she really was just like Penny, and he wondered how she had changed into the Aunt Paige that he knew, one who was so obsessed with magic, who had so much trouble reaching out to other people, to her own daughters, and who only ever spent time with him in order to drill him on magical potions and spells and demons.

Using the edge of the park bench, he popped off the top of the beer and let it fall into the grass. He took a swallow of the dark liquid.

It made him think of the alcohol he'd had with Salome. He needed to give the chunk of her flesh to the sisters. Perhaps he could go to them tomorrow, say he got caught up searching for information on demons that might go after Wyatt the night before, and then he could give them the flesh. Maybe it would get them focused on saving Wyatt once more.

But it wasn't a demon that went after Wyatt.

It was an Elder. Of all the damned surprises. . . .

His mind ran over the Elders he knew. Could it be Gideon? But that didn't make sense. It had to be someone who was opposed to Piper and Leo ever getting married. When he thought about it, he realized he didn't really know very many Elders. He knew Leo, he knew Angela, Dante, and Gideon, and a few others by sight but not name. . . .

But he really hadn't dealt with them very often.

How should he go about telling the sisters and Leo? How should he approach it? Would simply telling them be the best method? They'd probably go through his memories again if he tried to keep anything from them. _Privacy_ wasn't really something with which the Charmed Ones were familiar.

Still, he had to deal with the whole situation carefully.

But he was too tired to think about it right now. He took another sip of beer and stared off into the dark. Would they try calling for him? They hadn't yet. . . . Did they think he was in danger? Were they going to summon him again?

It took him a second to realize that he was _hoping_ they were worried about him. He didn't want them to summon him, he could say that with absolute certainty, but a small part of him wanted them to be worried, wanted them to call for him, wanted them to care about him. . . .

How fucked up was that?

He _was_ getting too close to them.

And then the tiniest of voices asked softly in his mind, _would that really be so bad?_

If he allowed them to get close, then they could help him deal with the Wyatt situation, with finding the Elder responsible. He could confess everything he had done to get the information; he could explain how he had needed to make manipulation a fine art with Salome; he could talk about how he had to pretend that he didn't mind killing people, that he didn't mind exchanging sex for information.

He hadn't simply outwardly pretended those things; he had made himself _think_ those things so that Salome would be unable to understand what he truly believed, what he was truly going to do. And thinking horrible things for that long, all in a long train of life-and-death manipulation . . . it took a toll on a person.

But there was no one to help relieve the stress and the anger and the darkness that circled within him. Unless, that is, _unless_ he was willing to let the sisters reach out to him as they seemed so desperately to want. . . .

But that would mean opening up to Leo, too. That would mean growing close to people that barely even knew anything about him — nothing, really, they knew nothing about him. And opening up to them would mean putting faith in people who had treated him terribly for months. He could still remember the suspicion and anger in their eyes when he had first come to the past and had arranged events to make Leo an Elder and himself their new whitelighter.

No, he couldn't make any emotional connections with them. It wasn't why he had come from the future. He had come to save Wyatt, and that's what he would do.

And if the only way they could help required him to connect with them emotionally, then fuck it, he didn't need their help.

He chugged the rest of the beer.

* * *

Piper was angry.

She had been a lot of things in that last few hours, she had been anxious and then disappointed and then sad and then heartbroken, but now, well, now she was angry.

No, she was _furious._

How dare he? How could he have promised — _promised — _to come and even said he liked gravy only to stand them up? Did he really have that little regard for their feelings? Did he really _hate_ them that much?

But she knew he didn't hate them. She knew he loved her, she knew he loved Paige, and she was pretty sure if the opportunity had arisen he would have unintentionally revealed a love for Phoebe, too. So then how could he treat them like this? How could he treat _her_ like this?

It made her angry. The better part of her knew she shouldn't be angry at him, knew that he was a scared little boy at heart, but damn it, they were doing the best they could to reassure that scared little boy that there was no longer anything to fear! And this was what they got in return?

It didn't just make her angry; it didn't just make her furious. She was Pissed Off with a capital P and a capital O and a damn it! She wanted to hit something or yell or just do _something!_ But what could she do?

It was nearly past midnight. Phoebe had gone out for about half an hour only to return and hole herself up in her room. Piper suspected she wasn't asleep, but she couldn't see what comfort hashing out what they both already knew with her sister would provide. And Paige was . . . was she home? Piper didn't even know.

It didn't matter.

She knew for a fact that she had absolutely no idea where Chris was.

And he couldn't care less that she didn't know.

Damn him.

She was lying on her bed and had been for the last hour. Nearly every light in her room was on, but she was too lazy to turn them off. She was too lazy to change into pajamas, to brush her teeth and curl up into bed. If she could, then she could go to the only place Chris called her mom, the only place she could guiltlessly be with Leo, the only place where all was well and right with her family: her dreams.

But her mind was buzzing too quickly, whirling around and around as an endless reel of thoughts playing in her mind, refusing to lie still and give her relief from the torment of it all. There was no way she'd fall asleep anytime soon.

Why hadn't he come?

There had to be a reason.

He wasn't in danger; she knew that instinctively. He couldn't have simply fallen asleep, as he wasn't at the club. Was he upset that they had pushed him for information? Was this a kind of punishment? But then would he really be so cruel as to promise to come, to ask for gravy, all as part of an elaborate retribution? _Really_?

But then again, she had no idea how vindictive Chris was. Did she even really know him? She didn't have any idea what he liked to do or what interested him . . . besides fighting demons, of course. She had no idea what his first kiss had been like — if she had been alive to hear of it. She didn't know if he was good at school, if he enjoyed it. She didn't have the faintest guess at how he spent his spare time here in the future.

He had been their whitelighter for months and months, and she knew nothing about him. No wonder he held a grudge against them: they had treated him terribly for so long, and as Paige said, they couldn't very well start treating him well because they learned he was family.

He had been family all along. Shouldn't they have been treating him well all along?

Her mind came to rest for a moment on that period of time when Paige and Phoebe had both moved out of the house. Leo was gone, for all intents and purposes, and though Chris had been moody and broody and all together unpleasant most of the time, she had gotten to know him a little during that time.

Of course it had all gone to hell when he had revealed that Wyatt was evil, but still, before then. . . .

He liked comic books.

There. That was something she had discovered. He didn't like classics, he had told her; he liked the darker ones. His favorite, he said, was a series called "Preacher." He had gotten a bit enthusiastic talking about it, trying to explain how a purely good angel and purely evil demon had produced a child who then possessed a preacher who was searching for god and teamed up with a vampire and. . . .

It had seemed so silly as he explain it all, and she had laughed, and he had smiled, and then she had asked, "so you were a comic bookie? I bet your mom loved that. Were you a trekkie, too? Or was that too far before your time?"

"I grew out of it when I started to get older," he'd said softly. She hadn't really noticed the change in the air. She'd been folding the laundry at the time.

"Do you want to stay for dinner?" she'd asked casually, not looking at him. "You can tell me more about these amazing comics," she'd teased.

"Actually, ah, I think I'm going to get going. Evil never rests, right?"

She had looked over at him with a sigh. "Yes, but _you_ need to give it a rest now and then, you know." He'd only given a shrug and orbed away. She'd gone back to her laundry. She hadn't really thought about his reaction, about any of it.

And it had slipped her mind since then.

But he liked comic books. He'd been open with her, had been sharing his life with her, and he had gone quiet when she had spoken about his mother and then left in obvious discomfort. How had she not noticed the abrupt change? How had she not been upset at losing out on a chance to get to know him?

And what had he been thinking? Had he wanted to say, "I don't know, how would you feel about me being a comic book fanatic?" Had he wanted to shout, unable to hold it in any longer, "You're my mom! It's you!"

Had he been silently sighing, had he been wishing he hadn't spoken at all, had he been remembering her future self and how that future self reacted to his love for comic books? There was no way to tell. She doubted she would ever know. Knowing would involve asking, and that would mean getting close to him, something it seemed as if he would never allow.

What if she scryed for him, sought him out, and talked to him, really made him listen? _Listen, Chris, I know you love comic books. I remember. I'm sorry I didn't treat you right at first. I love you. Forgive me. Love me back. Let me love you. I remember the comic books._ Would it do any good?

She planned out what she would say to him, carefully choosing each word, even as she knew that she would never seek him out like that, she would never say any of her meticulously planned words. If she did talk to him, it would probably be in the heat of the moment. He wouldn't let her say anything in any other fashion.

It made her angry again, and the rage bubbled up inside her, having faded slightly as she'd reflected over her memories in the last few minutes. But the anger was coming back. Even as she let the fire of fury spread through her veins, the door to her bedroom burst open and Phoebe stood there, a determined look on her face.

Piper frowned, pushing herself into sitting position. "What's the matter?"

"I can't sleep!" Phoebe declared. "We need to do something about Chris."

Piper sighed and fell back flat onto the bed. Phoebe came and sat beside her. "Phoebes, there's nothing we can do right now. It's all up to him at this point. We can't make him grow close to us."

"I know, I know," Phoebe said, "but I was thinking . . . what if we asked for a little guidance?" There was a bright gleam in her eye.

"What exactly are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting we go up to the attic, stand in front of the book, and ask if anyone — you know, _anyone _— would point us in the right direction concerning a way to reach out to Chris," Phoebe explained. "What do you think?"

"Honestly, I'm a little confused," Piper replied. "You want Grams to help us find a spell to get close to Chris? Really, Phoebe?"

"No, that's not what I . . . okay, so yes, that's sort of what I mean, but I don't like the way you just said it," Phoebe said, and Piper couldn't help but snort a little.

"I don't think magic can help us with this one, Phoebe," Piper said softly. "It's a nice thought, but I don't think it'll be any help."

"No, just hear me out," Phoebe protested. "The only way we're going to get close to Chris, the only way we're going to be able to earn his trust and prove to him that we're not going to leave him burned and alone, is if we gain some sort of insight into his head. I mean, do you have any idea what he was thinking standing us up tonight?"

Piper didn't say anything. She didn't have to.

"We can guess, sure, and maybe we're close, but it doesn't matter unless we know for sure, and that's impossible," Phoebe went on. "The point is that we need insight, and we can't keep running amok in his head. He's not really a big fan of that, if you remember."

"_I'm_ not really a big fan of that these days," Piper told her dryly.

Phoebe gave a small smile. "But then how do we get insight? I'm thinking the only way is through the undead. Grams or Mom are probably the only people who could help, and maybe it's a long shot, sure, but it's worth a try, right? Anything's worth a try!"

Such positive thinking was so very Phoebe and so very _un_-Piper.

"Okay," Piper sat up, "let's say that Grams and Mom do have 'insight' concerning Chris and that they would respond to our pleas for guidance. What sort of spell do you expect them to lead us to? What sort of spell would give us insight? We've already cut out the To Heal A Heart spell. What do you want to try? The Truth Spell? 'Cause I'm sure Chris would just _love_ that."

"I don't know," Phoebe shrugged a little helplessly. "But it's worth a try, right?" she repeated. Piper didn't reply immediately.

"It beats lying in our beds torturing ourselves over that neurotic little freak," Paige declared. Piper looked over in surprise to see her other sister standing in the doorway. "Now, I'm just joining the conversation," Paige continued, "but I think I've got the gist. I say we go for it."

"Right now?" Piper raised her eyebrows.

"Never put off for tomorrow what you can do today, missy!" Paige said perkily.

"Even if it's — 12:09 at night? Or morning or whatever?" questioned Piper. "Don't you think that's a little late?"

"My god, woman, you're old!" Paige exclaimed. Phoebe chuckled.

"Come on, Piper," she murmured. "Let's just try it, okay? If it doesn't do any good, then we'll go back to our good old fashion plan of begging Chris for any semblance of a relationship, I promise."

Piper sighed. Maybe they were right. Anything was worth a shot, right?

She nodded her consent and followed them out of the room and upstairs to the attic. They had to turn on a light, and after doing so, Piper fell onto a couch, wondering where Leo was right at that moment. Paige stood restlessly while Phoebe went behind the book. She looked at Piper.

"This was your plan, genius," Piper told her, "take it away."

"Um, hi, there!" Phoebe called up to the ceiling. "We were hoping you could give us poor mortals a hand down here! We need a way to get closer to Chris. Is there magic that can help? Because if you could lead us to a spell, well, that'd be pretty great!"

She looked at the book as if expecting it to open and pages to start flipping. Nothing happened. "Are we done?" asked Piper.

"Ah, no, just let me give it another go —"

"Maybe we could summon a spirit from the other side — bring Grams to us?" offered up Paige. "She's been helpful before, and maybe she could be again, you know? She knows about family, right? She raised you guys and everything. . . . Maybe she could reach out to Chris."

"Actually, Paige, that's a really good idea!" said Phoebe, her eyes lighting up yet again.

Piper didn't offer a hand as they set candles in a circle. They were wasting their time. Grams wouldn't be able to earn Chris's trust anymore easily than they could. She might provide comfort, sure, but. . . . Piper inwardly sighed as her sisters began to read the spell.

As soon as they finished, the familiar swirl of light began to appear in the circle. It only took a moment for the ghostly figure to form fully before them, and when she did, Piper's heart nearly stop. Phoebe's mouth had dropped and Paige's eyes gone wide, but Piper hardly noticed.

"You must be Paige," said the ghost. "I've wanted to meet you for so long now." Paige was speechless. The small, transparent brunette turned to Piper, a soft smile on her face. "Hi Piper," she greeted. "I've missed you."

She didn't know how she managed, but somehow Piper was able to exclaim one single word through her shock and disbelief:

_"Prue?"_

**To Be Continued . . . **

A/N: How you like THAT? While I love the character Prue, I've always kind of had a dislike (hate is such a strong word) for Shannon Doherty for her refusal to even guest star in the final episode of the show. It always saddened me that we never got to see Prue meeting Paige. And it makes since that eventually the sisters would get to see her again. Didn't Grams say they would see her when they had accepted her death? I think it's pretty safe to say that by the sixth season they've accepted her death -- they've got bigger fish to fry.

So, since this is my story and I can do whatever I want, I'm having Prue do a little guest starring. I've been planning this since the beginning and I've been so exicted to have it finally happen, so the next chapter should probably be up very soon :) I know this chapter took forever, but I ended up doing a lot of rewriting -- I orginally had Chris come to dinner and I had the whole scene written before I realized that it wasn't realistic and I wanted it to play out differently. So I've saved the dinner conversation for another chapter and this is what you get instead. . . . How'd you like it? You know how much I -- as all authors do -- love reviews!


	16. Chapter 16

_A/N: I know I had said this chapter would come sooner because I was so excited to write it, but it turns out it was a lot harder to write than I had imagined. The last scene was definitely the easiest and my favorite to write, and I hope you enjoy it, too! For the record, I actually finished this chapter and was ready to post yesterday but Documents Manager was "down" and I couldn't. Hopefully that won't happen again! As per usual: I do not own Charmed in any way and I write purely for my own amusement_._ It's AU after "Prince Charming."  
_

* * *

Prue smiled.

She looked exactly as she had three years ago; her dark brown hair fell softly around her shoulders, her eyes were the very same, and her smile was so hauntingly familiar. "And what about you, Phoebe?" asked Prue, turning slightly so she finally faced Piper, Paige and Phoebe all at the same time. "Have you missed me?"

Phoebe let out a whoosh of air before exclaiming, "Yes! Yes, I've missed you! I —!" She started to run towards Prue only to pause, realizing that Prue was still transparent. She let out an awkward, breathy laugh as Prue smiled and did the same, before stepping forward towards Phoebe and out of the circle.

Color washed over so that she stood before them fully formed, as if she had never died in the first place, and Phoebe threw herself at her big sister. Prue laughed, returning the hug in full. "I love you!" Phoebe proclaimed when they finally broke apart. There were tears welling in her eyes. "I love you so much, and I've wanted to tell you that ever since you died. I don't think I told you enough while you were alive. I love you. So, so much."

"I love you, too, Phoebes," Prue smiled brightly. "And I've known all along how much you love me. I never doubted it."

Phoebe let out a wet chuckle, unable to stop smiling as she hooked her arm through Paige's. And for the first time, Paige Matthews and Prue Halliwell spoke. "So, ah, how's heaven?" asked Paige, the slightest trace of timidity in her voice.

"Pretty good," Prue replied casually. "It has one major flaw, though — my three sisters aren't there." She was still grinning widely. "Not to say that I want you to join me anytime soon!" Paige smiled too as Phoebe let out another wet laugh.

"I'm sorry I never got to meet you," Paige offered.

"Nah, that's okay," Prue dismissed. "No _way_ could the world have handed _four_ Charmed Ones." Paige extracted herself from Phoebe and somehow, with great awkwardness, she and Prue hugged. "Thank you for taking care of Piper and Phoebe," Prue told her as they stepped away from one another. "I couldn't have asked for a better candidate."

"It wasn't hard," Paige told her, "but they did have pretty high standards. Apparently you were an amazing big sister."

"I was!" exclaimed Prue. And with that, her eyes landed once more on Piper, who had stood silently the entire time.

Prue was there before them once more. Piper couldn't believe it. Grams had told them right after Prue's death that only when they had accepted her death could they see her again. They must have accepted it, then. Piper supposed accepting the death of a loved one wasn't something that happened in a singe moment; it was something that happened gradually, so gradually that one wasn't even aware when it was actually complete.

But now that Prue was here with them again, Piper felt all the memories since Prue's death rushing to the surface of her mind, all the memories of moments when she'd desperately needed her big sister, when she'd believed that only Prue could help them, when she'd wanted to see Prue for a single instant, hug her and tell her she loved her.

"Piper?" questioned Prue softly.

Piper started to smile, even as she realized that tears were swiftly falling down her face.

"I'm hoping those are tears of happiness," Prue told her. Piper clutched at her mouth, nodding her head, before she started toward her sister and threw her arms around the solid figure much the way Phoebe had just earlier. Prue clutched her back, and Piper let her eyes drop close, savoring the moment.

She had begun to think, when she had a spare moment to focus solely on Prue, that this moment would never come. She would never fully accept her sister's death and she would never be allowed to see her, to hug her and be with her once more. But that moment had come; here she was now, hugging her big sister.

"I'm so proud of you, Piper," whispered Prue into her hair. "I've been watching you all ever since I died, and Piper, you are the most amazing woman I have ever known. All you've done for our family — I'm so proud of you."

Piper only nodded into their embrace, unable to make herself speak and unable to pull away from her sister. Prue ran a hand over Piper's hair, and it was as if Piper were a little girl once more and Prue was being the big, strong older sister, comforting her because they had no mother to do so. "I always knew you had it in you," Prue added softly.

At last they pulled away, and Piper batted uselessly at her wet face. Prue was still smiling. "Prue, it's so good to see you," Phoebe started, "but . . . how is this possible?"

"Grams told you that I could only come to you when you had accepted my death," explained Prue. "I couldn't wait for the day you did. I hated seeing you all so . . . sad and knowing that it was my loss that made you that way. I wanted you to move on and keep living your life. And of course I wanted you to move on so I could come see you again. I'm so glad you have."

"I don't think I'll ever accept your death!" protested Phoebe, still grinning.

"You can accept it," Prue said softly, almost _wisely_, "as long as you don't forget about me, that is!" She gave a trademark Prue face, and Piper finally felt words bubble into her mouth.

"We could never," she said.

"Good!" exclaimed Prue, and they all let out soft chuckles. Disbelief still ran rampant through the room, but there was a thick comfort as well. It was as if suddenly Prue's arrival had dulled all the worry and sadness and anger that had been consuming Piper only moments before. Prue would make everything okay.

"So, now," Prue began, "tell me a little more about Chris. I've been keeping an eye on everything, of course, but there's only so much a peeking angel can see."

"He's not very fond of us, for starters," Phoebe told her. "At least, he won't admit that he is." Prue nodded.

"I noticed. Poor kid. I kind of like him, though. He's a bad ass." She nodded her head again, adding, "I like that. But let me guess — right now he's orbed off and he isn't responding to your calls? Is that right?"

"He said he would come to dinner," Phoebe explained softly, "but he never showed."

"We kind of pushed him for information right beforehand, though," added Paige. "So. . . ."

There was a brief moment of silence, and Piper hated that moment. It seemed as if some of the warmth leaked out of the room. But Prue was here now! Prue was back. And Prue would make everything better. Prue would know how to speak to him and reach out to him and earn his trust and. . . .

"Alright, let's start from the beginning," Prue said. "Tell me everything you know about Chris. Everything you've managed to get from him and everything you've seen in the memories."

There. This was a start. And Piper was pretty sure that. . . .

Pure smiled at her.

Piper was _positive_ it was all uphill from here on out.

* * *

It was the first time in his life meditating hadn't helped.

For years he'd found a certain calm in meditation. It brought him a levelheadedness he often needed, and it reminded him of what was important. It cleared his head; it gave him strength. He used it less and less often after he married Piper; though he had relied on it for decades as a whitelighter, there was a new way of relieving stress: being with Piper. Even thinking of her could calm and comfort him.

But that wasn't an open avenue any longer. So he tried meditation . . . except he couldn't get it to work. He couldn't keep himself calm; he couldn't clear his head. All he could think of was Chris. And _damn it_, Chris was the reason he needed clarity, was the reason he needed to meditate. But it wasn't working.

Leo stared out across the San Francisco skyline. It was past midnight and the city twinkled in a beautiful way. He had always loved this view. As an angel he'd seen some of the most beautiful things on and above Earth. But he would always love this view a little more than all those other stunning sights.

Probably had to do with association and such, he assumed. It made him wonder: did Chris like this view, too? Did Chris come up here onto the bridge to think and to calm himself? Did Chris meditate?

Leo scoffed to himself.

Chris was _not_ the sort of person who meditated; no way, no how.

Leo sighed. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath and trying to release all thoughts from his mind.

"_You're the only thing I've always been sure of, Leo."_

"_You weren't around."_

"_You're not the man I fell in love with."_

"_Just because you happen to accidently knock up Piper and lo and behold, I come along, doesn't mean you're my father."_

Leo opened his eyes. He couldn't do it. His mind was flitting in all directions, constantly torn between how badly he wanted to go back to Piper and forget about the Elders and everything expected of him and how he couldn't get across to Chris no matter how hard he tried. Both thoughts tortured him, and the words that Piper and Chris had said to him were constantly barraging his mind.

And there was nothing he could do to make anything better.

Suddenly a wave of anger coursed through Leo . . . anger at himself.

What was he doing here? Why was he sitting on a bridge drowning in self-pity? This wasn't a man of whom anyone could be proud. This was a pitiful, broken man who abandoned his wife and son. Leo had done a lot of things wrong, but he refused to believe that he had abandoned the people he loved. Not yet.

He couldn't go to Piper. She needed time to herself. That was one situation that he doubted he would ever be able to fix. He was an Elder and he always would be; he couldn't change that now. But he could fix the situation with Chris. He _could_.

Leo closed his eyes, and this time he let his mind wander to Chris. It wasn't difficult. He sensed for the boy and immediately found him. Pain surrounded Chris, thick, overwhelming pain. Leo's heart broke a little inside him. He opened his eyes, determined.

And he orbed to Chris.

He was in the park. It was dark and wet and even a little cold, but Leo didn't pay the depressing weather any mind. His eyes sought out Chris and it took him a moment to find the boy. He wasn't on the bench. Instead, he lay flat on his back _behind_ the bench. Leo frowned.

"If you're tired," Leo said, approaching his wayward son, "I'm sure there's a bed in the Manor for you." Chris didn't acknowledge him. He didn't even _look_ at him. He continued to stare up at the sky. His face was flushed slightly, despite the cold, and it was then that Leo noticed the vodka bottle clutched loosely in Chris's hand.

"Have you been drinking?" he asked, unable to stop himself.

Chris's only response was to lift up the drink and pour some into his mouth. Only about a third of the alcohol actually made it between his lips. Leo's eyes roved around the scene to see an abandoned beer bottle a few feet away. He glanced back at Chris and took a step closer.

He wasn't sure but . . . no, he _was_ sure. Chris was drunk.

Drunk.

"Chris?"

"Leo," Chris said at last. Finally he met Leo's stare, and his eyes were glazed. The kid was drunk. Leo couldn't believe it. Yet . . . he could.

"I had some beer," Chris said, his voice thick. "Just uno." He stuck up his pointer finger dumbly, staring off disinterestedly into the sky.

"And some vodka," Leo observed. "That's not exactly a light drink, Chris."

Chris snorted. "Who likes light beer? Girls like light beer. 'M not a girl!" He snorted again. His eyes fluttered as his head lolled on the wet grass of the park. The vodka bottle tipped in his loose grip and what was left began to pour out, soaking the side of Chris's shirt. Chris didn't seem to notice or care.

"Alright," Leo said, sighing, "let's get you up and out of here. You're going to get arrested at this rate." He bent down and started to slip his arm under Chris, all the time aware of the fact that Chris was going to protest.

But he didn't. A cynical voice in Leo's head told him it was because the kid was too wasted to protest, but he ignored that voice as he, struggling only a little, pulled Chris to his feet, one of his son's lanky arms thrown over his shoulder. As soon as they were standing, however, Chris made a face. "What the hell are you doing?" he spat, his voice only slightly slurred.

He shoved himself away from Leo, stumbling until he bumped against the back of the bench. He gripped the metal to steady himself as he lifted up the vodka bottle — which he had managed to cling to the entire time — and tried to down what was left of it. Leo immediately darted forward and grabbed the drink from him. Vodka was not something a person tried to chug.

"Do you want to end up in the hospital?" Leo asked him, annoyed. "Where did you even get this from?"

"Why do you care?" said Chris, his glare unfocused. "Afraid it's gonna make you look bad or something?"

"I care because I don't want you having to have your stomach pumped," Leo replied, feeling frustration creep into his veins and overtake the shock and pity that had initially been his reaction to Chris's inebriated state. "I can't imagine your mother would want that either."

"You don't know," Chris replied darkly, wagging his finger at Leo, "you don't know what she wants."

"Chris —"

"Fuck off!" Chris shouted suddenly, his eyes blazing for a moment. Leo had always been a comical drunk. It seemed Chris was really nothing like Leo. No, Chris was a _mean_ drunk, an _angry_ drunk.

"I just want to help you, Chris," Leo said softly.

"Ha," Chris snorted, "you're a little late, _Dad._"

Leo had waited so long to hear that word from Chris, had wished to hear it desperately, but now that he finally did he could only flinch at the hateful tone Chris used to spit it at him. "Bottle!" Chris said suddenly, and the bottle in Leo's grasp disappeared only to reappear in mid-air above the bench and fall crashing down. "Damn," Chris swore, kicking stupidly at a splinter of glass.

Chris pushed off of the bench and started to wander away, a stagger in his step. Leo sighed. He couldn't let him go off on his own in that condition. "Chris, wait, just wait; let me take you back to the Manor."

"Why?" Chris replied, not stopping and not even glancing at Leo.

"Because," Leo answered, catching up to Chris and placing a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "You need —"

"Why — why are you _touching_ me?" Chris said, trying to step to the side and tripping over his own feet. He didn't fall, though, and he continued onward, shooting Leo a nasty glare. Leo wasn't sure whether he wanted to sit down and cry or smack Chris in the face at this point.

He knew that Chris was upset with him and he could understand why: obviously his future self had treated Chris badly, and there was no doubt that he had treated Chris _terribly_ before he had known the boy's true identity. Leo expected anger for that. But still, he was doing his best to reach out to Chris, to find out how he could make it up to them, and the kid just _wouldn't let him!_ It was impossible.

It was too much to expect from one person, angel or not.

"I'm touching you," Leo replied, gritting his teeth, "to _help_ you."

"No," spat Chris.

"_Yes_," said Leo, orbing suddenly so he could stand in front of Chris and cut the boy off. "You don't want my help? Fine. Give me one reason why not. I know you don't like me, Chris, and apparently there's nothing I can do about that. But if you honestly expect me not to help my son when he's in this condition, then you better have a good reason why."

There. He'd said his bit. Chris couldn't begrudge him that.

And then Chris started to laugh. It was a strange sound, a strangled sound, and Leo didn't know if he was more affected by how haunted it sounded or by how clearly it was induced by alcohol. "_My_ son," Chris repeated. "Listen to you." He started to walk backwards and tripped slightly, looking like a fool. "Nobody's buying it — you can't purchase — you can't buy it."

Leo realized there was no point in trying to listen to Chris. He was intoxicated. "Just come back to the Manor with me," he pressed softly.

"No," insisted Chris stubbornly, batting Leo's hands away. "Piper'll take care of me," he protested.

"That's a _good_ thing," Leo told him, frowning slightly.

"No's _not._"

"Chris," murmured Leo softly, his heart struck. Was Chris afraid to receive Piper's care and affection? "It's okay to let Piper take care of you. She wants to. You should let her."

Chris snorted. He pointed his finger at Leo. "I thought you _hated_ that," he said. "Chris is always sick," Chris went on, making a sour face as if attempting to imitate someone. _Trying to imitate me_, Leo guessed. "Never stops crying. Wyatt didn't cry this much. I'll get in trouble if I heal him again, Piper!"

"Chris. . . ."

"Wasn't my fault!" Chris shouted angrily. "I didn't kill her. _You killed her._ Not me. I was just a baby. Baby. Not like perfect baby Wyatt, just like your brother James, no. . . . _You _killed her; not me." He had begun to babble now, but something was stirring in Leo, some shadow of what _might just be_ understanding. . . . .

"Chris," Leo said again, his voice a whisper.

"I _hate_ you," Chris declared, his eyes hot, before orbing. He reappeared a moment later, falling in a heap a foot from where he had tried to orb. He was out cold. Leo sighed. He'd never tried to orb while drunk, but he suspected it wasn't a very winning combination.

He knelt beside Chris, his eyes roaming over the pale face and dark hair and thinking of how stubborn, fierce, and temperamental the kid was. This boy was all Halliwell. And while that was a good thing, it also meant there seemed to be very little of Leo Wyatt in him. Leo didn't often think of his family before Piper, but there had been one. He had loved his hometown, loved his parents, loved his friends, loved his wife, and loved his little brother.

No, he had _adored_ James. They were inseparable growing up; anywhere Leo Wyatt went, James Wyatt would be sure to go too. And Leo had loved that. He had thought being a big brother the most wonderful thing in the world. He was a role model to someone, a _hero _to someone. It was hard not to love that.

But then he had gone to fight and James, at only sixteen, had been left behind. "I hope it lasts long enough for me to come and help you get 'em!" James had told him right before he left. Leo was only gone for two months when he got the letter from his mother: there had been an accident. It was the same sad story it always was. It was too dark, it was raining too hard, and the young boy in the new car took the turn too fast.

James died.

Leo had been horrified; he had been positive it was _his _fault. He hadn't been there to look after his brother, to keep him safe, and now that curly blonde haired boy who had always looked up to him, who had loved baseball as he did, who was his _baby brother_ . . . was dead. But he hadn't had time to dwell on it. He was in a war.

At least, he was in a war until he died too.

And as a whitelighter his life with his parents and James and everyone else had faded into memories that shaped him but were forever in the past. He had fallen in love with Piper, married her, and. . . . It had never occurred to him to wonder whether or not any of his children would be like his parents or his brother.

But maybe Wyatt was like James. How would that matter? It certainly wasn't reason enough to make Leo love Wyatt _more_ than Chris. Leo sighed. There was no use trying to figure it out now, at least not while Chris was lying there unconscious in the grass. Leo reached down and dragged Chris to his feet for a second time.

He orbed to the Manor.

They were all in the kitchen, Leo could sense that. He orbed into the living room, gently lying Chris down on the couch. He heard footsteps come from the kitchen; the sisters must have seen the orbs and come to investigate.

"Oh my god!" Phoebe exclaimed. "Is he okay?" Concern was written all over her face as she passed Leo and put her hand on Chris's forehead, her eyes roving over his face.

"He's not hurt physically, if that's what you mean," Leo replied, slightly bitter. "But he is out cold from . . . well, it looked like a bottle of beer and way too much vodka."

Phoebe looked at him in shock, even as Piper exclaimed, "What?" and entered the room. Leo turned to face her and explain only to freeze. On one side of Piper stood Paige, her eyes jumping back and forth between Chris and Leo, and on the other side stood . . . stood . . . stood. . . .

"Hey Leo!" Prue greeted enthusiastically. "How are you?"

"I — I — I —" Leo could only stutter, his eyes wide with disbelief. _Prue Halliwell_ was standing right there beside him, looking as if she had never been dead a day in her life. What on Earth had he missed? He hadn't been gone _that_ long!

"That well, huh?" Prue teased.

"How are you —?" Leo began, swallowing thickly.

"We needed a little guidance," Phoebe explained, and with a quick dart of his eyes Leo saw that Phoebe was beaming as her eyes gazed adoringly at her deceased big sister. "And instead of Grams or Mom coming to the rescue," she went on.

"I did," Prue finished for her.

"Pretty cool, right?" Paige said, grinning. Prue flashed her a quick grin before her eyes landed on Leo, who was still standing in complete shock.

"So aren't you going to give me a hug?" Prue asked him, a teasing note still in her voice as she raised an eyebrow at him. He chuckled disbelievingly.

"Of — of course!" he smiled, stepping forward and enveloping in her hug. She even _smelled_ the same as she had before she'd died. "It's . . . it's really good to see you," he finally said when he pulled away. He should have known that eventually Prue would be able to come back to them on occasion. After all, the sisters had slowly been moving on and in his opinion had long ago accepted her death.

"Back at ya, Leo," she replied. "You're looking pretty good considering the added years." Leo smiled. She was exactly the same. His eyes inadvertently landed on Piper the moment after and he expected to see her beaming as happily as everyone else. But she wasn't.

Instead her eyes were glued on Chris. "He was drinking?" she said, tearing her eyes away from her son to look at him.

"I found him in the park downing a bottle of vodka," Leo explained, a little of his sudden happiness seeping away as reality crashed back down upon him. "He told me he'd had a beer before he went for vodka and then . . . he tried to orb and it didn't really work very well, as you can see."

No one said anything for a moment. "Well," Paige finally spoke, "I guess nobody told him the rhyme."

"What?" asked Phoebe, frowning.

"Beer before liquor, never been sicker," Paige said, "liquor before beer, in the clear. Haven't any of you ever heard that before? My college roommate used to say it all the time. . . ." There was silence again.

"He skips dinner to get drunk," Piper said slowly, sitting on the edge of the couch and pushing his hair from his face.

"Maybe he didn't _mean_ to skip dinner," Phoebe replied. "Maybe he got so drunk that he —"

"You know that's not true," Piper cut her off angrily. Prue stepped forward and placed a hand on Piper's shoulder.

"Why don't we try and make him comfortable?" she suggested. "This is a chance for us to show him that his family does care about him. He can spend the night here. And then we can have a talk with him tomorrow." Piper nodded slowly, her eyes not leaving Chris.

For an instant Leo wanted to speak up, to say that Chris hadn't _wanted_ them to take care of him. But maybe Prue was right. Maybe the fact that Chris didn't want them to take care of him was all the more reason to do so. He did need to realize that his family cared for him. He needed to accept that.

Leo ended up falling asleep at the Manor. It seemed wrong to leave, not to mention the fact that he didn't _want_ to leave. He wanted to make sure Chris was alright and, more importantly, — although he would only admit it to himself —, he wanted to prove that he was there for Chris and that he would wait through the night for him.

It was strange talking to Prue. She seemed so alive, so like herself, and she seemed to know so much about their lives that it was as if she had never left, but at the same time, in a sad, empty sort of way, it was as if they couldn't decide exactly _where_ she fit into the Halliwell home now.

It wasn't nearly as sad, however, as when Leo awoke the next morning and found Piper quietly scrubbing the kitchen floor. "Did you get any sleep at all?" he asked softly, affection bubbling deep within him.

"Yes," she answered softly, not looking at him but continuing to scrub one particular spot on the floor with a great deal of effort. "I slept for a few hours. And it was in those hours that he left."

Leo frowned. "What do you mean . . . ?"

Piper threw down her sponge and looked up at him. "He's gone. Chris is gone. He left while we were all asleep." Leo didn't know what to say. What _could_ he possibly say? There was nothing. It was impossible to reach out to Chris, to be there for him, no matter how hard they tried.

Piper went back to her scrubbing. "Prue's disappeared, too," she commented softly.

Leo frowned again, his brow furrowing. A thought occurred to him. "Was Prue asleep, too?" he asked. Why would Prue go to sleep?

"No, actually," Piper answered, and there was a light tint of confusion in her voice as she spoke, though she continued to scrub stubbornly at the spot on the floor without making eye contact. "She was supposed to stay up with him while I got a few hours of sleep. When I woke up they were both gone."

"Maybe she went somewhere with him," Leo suggested half-heartedly.

"I doubt it," Piper replied quietly. "Why would Chris feel any differently about her than he does us?"

* * *

Prue Halliwell had gotten very good at peeking.

It was, after all, the only way she could stay a part of her sisters' lives, even if it was in a rather diminished role. It seemed now that she was back on Earth, for however little time, her ability to peek was as necessary as ever. She had been reading a _People_ magazine, chuckling to herself at the inanity of it all, when Chris had let out an almighty groan. Some instinctive part of her had told her to slip silently from the chair by his couch and hide out of view before he could notice her.

She had watched him slowly sit up, clutching his head. He had stood shakily to his feet and stumbled from the room, and it was easy to hear him retching in the bathroom. She felt bad for him but she was afraid to approach him suddenly. What if it spooked him? She had certainly watched enough of him and heard plenty from her sisters to know he wasn't the most trusting of people.

Besides, maybe she could learn something about him from his reaction to this situation if she merely stood back and watched. . . . And she did. He emerged from the bathroom with a pale face, but his eyes were alert enough to bounce around the room. "Damn it, Leo," he muttered darkly to himself. "Fucking, brownnoser. . . ."

If she hadn't already known the kid hated Leo, it would have been fairly evident at that point. What he did next, however, came as a shock to Prue. He called a cab company, giving them the address and saying he needed them to come as fast as possible. Apparently he was determined to get out of the house before someone awoke, but he wasn't stupid enough to try and orb again.

Prue could at least be thankful for that last bit: she didn't want a dumb nephew.

But then he realized he didn't have any money. Hopefully that was because he was hung over and not just because he actually was rather stupid. "Fucking, fucking, fucking," he murmured angrily. He clutched his head, rocking on his heels for a moment. When the cab arrived he told the annoyed man behind the wheel that he'd changed his mind. The small man flicked him off and disappeared into the night.

And Chris set out on foot. Prue followed him at a safe distance, darting behind buildings whenever she thought he might be able to catch a glimpse of her. It was _wonderful_. She had missed the adventures she had once had; she had missed being able to _do_ something, to _accomplish_ something of real significance.

Chris had stopped two or three times, choosing to lean tiredly against random brick buildings, each time mumbling a few choice expletives. Finally he had given up and given in and stuck out his thumb to hail a car to hitchhike. Prue was impressed; most people didn't do hitchhiking. She supposed Chris had seen enough evil in the world that a ride with a stranger didn't really faze him.

"Where you headed, kid?" a heavily bearded man in a green pick-up truck asked him when he stopped.

"The club P3; I work there," Chris answered tiredly.

"That's on my way," the man told him. "Hop on in." Chris did just that, and a moment later he was speeding away without Prue. It only took her a moment to make her decision. As soon as the truck was out of view, she stuck out her own thumb, chuckling to herself at the thought of a dead woman hitchhiking. It sounded like a bad horror movie.

It took much less time for someone to stop for her than for Chris, and that made her smirk to herself. The man who picked her up, however, was no more attractive than the one who had stopped for Chris. "Where to, hon?"

"The club P3?" she asked sweetly. He grinned.

"Get on in, doll; I can take you there."

Prue was delighted. If this was the only night she'd spend on Earth for a while, at least it was shaping up to be one hell of a night. She chatted amicably with her driver; after all, what harm could it do? She wondered impishly to herself if this was what Phoebe had felt when she was young and daring and left for New York proclaiming that it couldn't do any harm.

Prue sighed, wishing she'd been more daring when she was alive. She had lightened up in her last few years on Earth as she grew closer with her sisters and her witchly duties demanded it of her, but still, sometimes she wished . . . there was no use in regretting anything now, though. Live in the moment was a good motto to go by, especially when someone was actually dead and could only pretend to be alive for so long.

She happily said goodbye to Pete, even giving him a kiss in his cheek, sure to have made his year. The club she had helped to start tugged at her heart strings, but she didn't hesitate as she crossed the parking lot. She'd have to be careful, though; she had no idea if anyone there would recognize her, and she did _not_ want to deal with that right now.

It was past three in the morning and the club would probably be closing soon. Only a few people were left scattered about the place in varying states of intoxication, and it looked as if there were two people working: one clearing glasses at the tables and the other adding receipts or some other such mundane task behind the counter. Prue didn't recognize either of them. Without Chris in sight, she had only one option.

"Hi there!" she cheerfully greeted the man behind the counter. He was probably in his late twenties, had dark hair and would have surely gotten her heart beating a little faster had she still been alive. She didn't usually go for younger men, but there were exceptions. . . .

"Can I help you?" he asked, seemingly surprised at her chipper attitude.

"I'm looking for a friend of mine who just came in here. About yea high, dark hair, looked partly surly, party tired, and partly really, really hung over?" she said, smiling at the man.

"Chris?" he questioned, looking even more surprised.

"That's the one!"

"Ah, he's back that way. He lives here at the club. He's friends with the owner, Piper. Or at least I think that's why he lives here. I've never actually asked Piper before."

"Yes, that's why he lives here," Prue assured him. "I'm a friend of Piper's too. And Chris. I'm a mutual friend! I'm really more of family, actually. Mutual family. So I'm going to go talk to him. But you have a nice night . . . ?"

"Taylor," he answered helpfully.

"Taylor!" she smiled. Feeling rather proud of herself, she flounced to the backroom Taylor had indicated. She softly pushed the door open, thankful to find it unlocked, and stepped into the room. It really wasn't the homiest of places, she thought sadly, and Chris had done nothing to make it more personal. There were no pictures, no trinkets, _nothing. _Except, that is, for a few articles of clothing scattered here and there, some empty plates and drinks from P3, and — _what in the world? _— a hunk of flesh.

Yes, a hunk of flesh.

Chris himself was currently lying sprawled across his makeshift bed, one arm thrown carelessly over his face as if to block out what dim lighting the small room possessed. Thinking that it was now or never, Prue finally announced her presence. "You probably would have been more comfortable staying at the Manor, Chris."

He sat up so fast it had to have been jarring to his alcohol-induced headache, and he clutched his head accordingly. But his dark eyes stayed locked on her. She was about to say something more, to introduce herself, but it seemed there was no need. "Aunt Prue?" he breathed, clearly surprised but not at all _unhappy_.

"Now that's a better greeting then I was expecting. How goes it, Chris?"

"I — ah, I," he let out a chuckle, "I'm doing okay, I guess. It's really good to see you. You look — you look good . . . for a dead woman, at least." He smiled softly. She didn't know what to say. She hadn't really known what to expect, but whatever vague ideas she had in mind were nothing to the reaction she was actually receiving. "But what are you doing here?"

"Helping you," she answered. "It's not like there's anything more exciting to do in heaven. I swear: most boring place ever." Chris laughed only to cringe a second later. She felt a stab of sympathy; she had been there before. "You want me to whip you up a hangover smoothie? I'm sure all the ingredients are behind the bar."

He nodded slowly. "What's the harm, right?" he replied with a sigh. She lead the way out of the backroom and back into the club, which was even emptier than before. She gave Taylor a large grin as she stepped behind the bar. Chris nodded at the other man.

"I think I'm going to head home," Taylor said. "Can you close up?" he asked Chris.

"Sure thing," Chris said dully. Taylor smiled at Prue and then made his way out of the club, grabbing a jacket as he left. Prue began collecting the ingredients she needed, slightly nervous; it had been a while since she'd had to do this, and she wanted to do it right.

And then there was the whole weird response Chris had to seeing her. It was a good one, sure, but definitely weird. She wondered if there was something she was missing. "So, how'd you get here, anyway?" Chris asked.

"Ah, Piper, Phoebe, and Paige brought me," she replied. She started the mixer and Chris let out a moan, covering his head with his arms. A minute later she poured the drink into an empty glass and slid it across the bar to him. He mumbled thanks and started chugging the pinkish orange beverage.

When he set the glass down, he looked at her with a new wariness. "They brought you here?" he questioned. She nodded.

"How else would I have gotten here?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I — I don't know," he grumbled, and his kind demeanor was gone. "For a second when I saw you I thought you had come to help me but you . . . you're here for the sisters and Leo, right? And you don't ever remember meeting me. I can't believe I was so stupid earlier."

Prue was confused.

"I . . . _haven't_ met you before," she said slowly. "But I am here to help you! I'm here to help _all_ of you. What's so wrong with that?" Chris didn't reply but chose instead to continue drinking the hangover smoothie. It only took Prue a few minutes, however, to catch up with his train of thought.

"You've summoned me in the future, haven't you?" she asked quietly. "If I can come now then obviously I can come in the future. And you've brought me down to Earth for a little while before. Chris?"

Chris nodded. "I used to think you were the coolest person in the world," he said. "I was eleven the first time. I wanted . . . I wanted to throw Piper a birthday party and I got it into my head that the best present I could give her would be . . . _you_." He shook his head softly at the memory.

"I summoned you a lot after that. I thought it was the greatest thing in the world. It was the first time that someone focused all of her attention on _me_. I mean, Piper and Penny both cared about me, but they had their own lives to worry about and . . . but when you came, for a few hours it could be all about me, about my life and what was bothering me and what I wanted and thought and felt and . . . and it was just . . . it was kinda nice."

Prue was a single word from bursting into tears. He was breaking her heart, he really was.

"I'm glad I could be that for you," she said softly, stifling her tears.

"It was only for a little while. Then Leo forbade me from summoning you. He said I was getting too attached to you and it wasn't right for a kid to depend that much on someone who was dead. I didn't start summoning you again until years later when the Resistance kicked off and as far as I was concerned Leo could fuck it."

His voice and face had both hardened considerably in that moment.

A part of Prue wanted to defend Leo; he was the brother she never had, and he didn't deserve all the hatred Chris held for him. _I'm sure he meant well,_ she wanted to say. But she knew better than to say anything at all. It wouldn't help and it would probably serve only to alienate Chris from her. He drained the rest of his glass.

"Listen to me," he said sullenly, "I can't stop spilling my guts to anyone who will listen. I spent years trying to . . . I have got to get the hell _out _of this place. I've got to save Wyatt and get back to my own time." He finally looked at her and he looked so very _tired_ at that moment.

"Let me help you," she said, resisting the urge to reach out and touch his arm. He didn't like touching, if she remembered correctly. "I helped you once. Let me do it again."

He didn't reply for a little while, and she almost thought he wouldn't reply at all. At long last, however, he said softly, "I have a new angle. Something I got from the demon Salome. And as evil as she is, I know she's a reliable source."

"What is it?" Prue asked, excitement building in her again. This was it; this was the only way to live: chasing down demons and saving the world. _God_, she had missed it.

"You can't tell you sisters," Chris said, his eyes searching her face for her reaction to that statement. "At least not yet. I know how they work; I know how they'll react and it would be better to wait, to scope out the situation without them first."

"Alright," Prue agreed slowly.

"Promise me you won't say a word," he demanded.

She was hesitant but she couldn't help herself: if Chris was confiding in her then at least he was confiding in _someone_, and that was better than nothing, right? "I promise," she said. She held his gaze, allowing him to see the honesty behind her words.

He took a deep breath. "I don't know who," he began, "but I do know that the person who goes after Wyatt is . . . an Elder."

**TO BE CONTINUED . . .**

A/N: It's been a while since we've had any action, so those of you who enjoy that will be happy to know that some is coming in the next chapter. There will also be a kind of "break through" on the Chris emotional front concerning one of the characters (and I don't mean Prue!) Hopefully you don't mind the longer waits I've been forcing on you for the last few chapters; I really do try and update as quickly as I can! And now . . . please review! :)


	17. Chapter 17

_A/N: It has been WAY TOO LONG since I've updated, and for that I'm sincerely sorry. I don't have any really good excuse. I've been so busy this summer and this fiction has taken a backseat. I have not abandoned it, though, and I will not, I promise. Hopefully I can the next chapter up much sooner! As always: this story is AU after "Prince Charming" and I own no rights whatsoever to anything Charmed. Enjoy the long-awaited Chapter Seventeen!_

* * *

Since learning he was her son, Piper had not gone to his room at P3. It wasn't that she was afraid of anything . . . or maybe that was it. She honestly didn't know anymore. And she was too tired to lie to herself any longer. For whatever reason, going to the place he lived was something she had staunchly avoided. Maybe it was just an attempt at self-preservation: it would be too painful to be reminded of the life they'd forced him to live before learning his identity.

But she was going now. She wanted to see him. Prue had disappeared to God only knew where for God only knew what reason, and that annoyed Piper, but she couldn't help but keep her focus on Chris. A part of her wondered if perhaps Prue was with Chris, as it seemed the most logical explanation, but there was no proof of that.

No one was at P3 when Piper entered a little before noon. She crossed through the silent club and found the door to his storage room-turned-living quarters open. He wasn't there. At first all she could feel was disappointment; a moment later curiosity got the better of her, and she crossed the threshold into his room.

There were no decorations or adornments of any sort; no pictures or personal items. It was a small, cramped room, used purely for such things as sleeping and dressing, as evidenced by the unmade bed and scattered clothing. A bitter part of Piper thought to herself that the room was very, very _Chris._

Automatically, she began to gather his clothing into a pile. It needed to be washed. His sheets didn't look as if they had seen any soap or water since she'd first given them to him to have after he'd been assigned as their whitelighter. She'd take care of that too, then. She stripped the sheets of his bed, rolling them into a ball.

She took the few dishes left behind on a small table and put them on the counter of the bar to be cleaned when her little worker bees arrived. She headed home again with laundry in tow. Phoebe had gone into work; Paige was at Magic School, her new favorite place, and she had taken Wyatt with her. Piper had the house to herself as she did his laundry.

It was too quiet.

When she arrived back at P3, she left the clothing in a neat pile and made the bed, smoothing the sheets. What was she supposed to do then? She needed to go to the market for a few things, among them diapers. She needed to check the supplies list for P3 and call up the manager of the band who had cancelled two days ahead of time. And she needed to . . . well, there were a lot of things she needed to do and _could_ do.

But none of them involved Chris.

Sighing, she set to work doing little jobs about P3 and she worked for nearly two hours, her mind on autopilot. Taylor came in around two thirty in the afternoon. "Hey, Piper," he greeted tiredly, yawning. She gave him a tight smile. "How's Chris?" he went on conversationally. "He didn't look great when he came in last night."

"He — he's fine," Piper answered, putting down her pen and deciding she would go to the market. She'd done enough at P3 for today.

"Good," said Taylor, nodding. "I thought he would be. He was in a pretty good mood, considering. That perky friend of yours was making him a smoothie when I left." He wasn't facing her as he spoke and to him there was no significance to his words. But she stared wordlessly at him.

"Perky friend?" she repeated, trying not to sound too interested.

"Yeah," he nodded again, "she was a brunette, toothy smile, said she was a mutual family friend . . . or something like that. Why?"

"Oh, just . . . nothing," Piper gave another tight smile. Taylor shrugged and turned back to his work. So Chris has come back here and Prue had gone with him. She had made him a smoothie. And had Taylor said that Chris was in a _pretty good mood_? Chris didn't do good moods.

Maybe he _did_ get along better with Prue than any of them. But why?

"I've got to run some errands," she told Taylor. "Open up the club for me tonight if I don't come back, okay?" He nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. A few minutes later she was out in her car and on her way back home. She needed to find Chris and Prue. She needed to figure out what was going on.

Phoebe was back at the house when Piper arrived; she was making herself a sandwich and arguing with someone on the phone. Piper threw her purse on the table and slipped into a kitchen chair, waiting for Phoebe to finish her call so they could talk. Was there any chance Phoebe had heard from Prue or Chris?

"What's up?" Phoebe asked, hanging up the cordless.

"Who was that?" Piper replied, nodding at the phone.

"Elise," Phoebe said, rolling her eyes as if that explained everything. Piper didn't say anything. Phoebe took a bite of sandwich as she came to sit across from Piper. "What have you been doing all day?"

"Chores at P3," Piper answered simply. It was quiet for a moment. "I talked to Taylor right before I left and he — he said that Chris and Prue were both at P3 last night. He said that Chris was in a good mood."

"Chris knows how to be in a good mood?" asked Phoebe.

"Apparently," Piper replied bitterly. Again, there was a brief silence. "So I'm guessing there isn't any chance you've heard from Prue or Chris?" she finally asked. All of the determination that had gripped her in the club seemed to have faded away.

Phoebe shook her head sadly. "Sorry, hon." Piper looked down at the table, tracing a coffee stain with her pinky finger. She only looked up again when Phoebe spoke. "We could try scrying for them."

"And what good would it do?" Piper asked.

"We could help them with whatever they're doing together," said Phoebe. "It's worth a shot, right?"

"Is that your catch phrase or something?" Piper said, eying her sister. "When they make action figure Phoebe Halliwell, will pressing a button on the doll's back make her say '_It's worth a shot'_?"

"And what will yours say?" countered Phoebe. "_'Give up now'_?"

Piper glared at her, but it didn't faze Phoebe. Sometimes Piper really hated how little her glare affected her sisters these days. As kids her glares had possessed actual pull. In gaining the power to blow things up, it seemed she'd lost the power of the mighty glare.

"Come on," Phoebe said, standing up and grabbing her sister's arm. "Up and at 'em. We've got some scrying to do."

Reluctantly standing and following her sister up the stairs, Piper couldn't help but ask disagreeably, "And where do you expect to find them?"

* * *

"Could I emphasize yet again that, while I generally enjoy risk, this plan is not the best idea in the world, considering oh, you know, they could very well SMITE us for this?"

"Actually, I don't think they generally do smiting," he replied calmly.

"Okay, fine, ignoring the a hundred and ten reasons why no sane person on the side of good would ever think of doing what you're about to do, what about the whole demon aspect? They're really not the most reliable allies."

"They do when need be," he countered.

"They smell bad," she pointed out.

"Breath through your mouth, then."

"Look, there smell is not the point!" she exclaimed.

"You brought it up," he pointed out.

"This is a bad idea!" she cried. "Epic bad. I know you don't want to talk to my sisters, but Chris, come on, they can help! There has to be a better way to do this."

He turned on her with a dark face. "Maybe there's a better way to do this," he snapped, "but this is _my_ way, and it's how we're going to do it. If you don't want to help, then don't. I'm not pointing a gun to your head."

They stared at one another for a moment.

"You know," she finally said. "you're mean."

He let out a huff, turning away from her just in time to face the demon that approached them. Prue glanced distastefully at the large, broad-shouldered, bald man. He had tattoos on his cheeks, bare head, and neck, and a large black hook in his nose — that had to have been painful to get put in.

"You ready?" Chris asked the demon, who nodded, his posture stiff.

"You better hold up your end of the bargain, whitelighter," the demon replied. Chris only gave him a scathing stare, and the demon turned to a few of his toadies lurking in the back of the cavernous dungeon. "Now."

Prue watched with a kind of fascination — and deadening dread — as the leader of the demons and four others stood in a circle, one which was magically reenforced with crystals Chris had set up, and linked hands. They began to chant, closing their eyes and tipping back their heads. Immediately a blue spark of lightening flickered to life and circled around their heads and a magical dome appeared over the circle.

Chris was leaning against the far wall, one ankle crossed causally over the over and his eyes keen. She went to stand beside him. She couldn't believe she was letting this happen. They had been discussing all different scenarios together and then suddenly he had orbed her down her, made a deal with a demon before she knew what was going on, and when he finally explained, her protests had been adamantly shot down.

Truthfully, she agreed because she knew if she didn't then he would simply do it without her help. He was a stubborn one, her broody nephew. "Why these demons?" she asked. He hadn't actually told her that yet.

"Best in the business of summoning," he replied curtly, his eyes not leaving the scene. "Can't fight, though," he added. She could only nod in understanding, unsure what else there was to say.

His jaw was locked, his arms crossed over his chest, and he looked so . . . _fierce_ that she wondered how terrible his past had to have been to make him that way. It was certainly an admirable thing, to be strong and determined and fierce, but usually the people that were had a reason for it, and it wasn't often a good reason.

She bit her lip and considered questioning the plan once more.

She never got the chance, though, because at that moment lightening struck the dome of magic the demons had created and it began to crackle loudly, the brightness of the magic nearly blinding. Chris turned to her. "Punch me," he demanded.

She frowned. That wasn't a part of the plan. . . . "Chris," she began hesitantly.

He sighed in annoyance, turned away from her and — and slammed his face into the wall. "Chris!" she cried. He did it again, cringing slightly, and then stumbled away from the wall, his nose bloody and smashed, his face red. "What the hell are you doing?" she asked.

He pulled a knife out of his pocket. "Oh, no," she said, shaking her head. "Whatever you're about to do with that —!" He slashed it across his chest, tearing his shirt and drawing blood. He did it a second time, then a third, then on his arm, then on his leg. "Stop it!" she demanded, grabbing the knife from him.

"Stay out of sight," he said, his breath short, and he dropped to the ground, rolling around for a minute, dirt quickly collecting on his clothing and in his cuts and mixing with the blood from his nose that was slowly smearing across his face. "GO!" he yelled.

She shouldn't have listened to him . . . but she did. She went to the alter in the corner of the room a few feet away and crouched out of sight behind it. She still had a clear view of Chris, lying on the floor and breathing heavily after beating the shit out of himself.

An instant later, the shimmering light of the dome above the demons shattered into dust, and when the air cleared, the circle was no longer empty. Within it, knocked off her feet by the force of the magic that had summoned her, was an Elder.

Chris had actually convinced a group of smelly demons to summon an _Elder_.

Prue had been told it was so he could question the woman. Now she had no idea what was going on. She felt like something of a chump and her anger with Chris burned inside her, but she did nothing. She would chew him out later after his manipulative plan played out.

The small, blonde woman pushed herself quickly to her feet. "How dare you summon me?" she cried, already raising her arms to blast one demon to piece and he was gone in the blink of an eye.

"No!" roared the leader of the demons. He turned towards Chris. "You —!"

But the Elder was too furious. The large, bald leader with the black hook in his nose was blown into oblivion. In quick succession, the rest of the demons orbed away. Chris moaned and the Elder immediately caught sight of him. "Chris?" she murmured. "My God, Chris! What's happened to you?" She started towards him only to stop short at the sight of crystals.

Her eyes hardened, and with her mouth a thin line, she swept her hand through the air and the crystals went flying, crashing into the wall. She hurried to Chris, kneeling down beside him with genuine concern. "Hey Angela," he panted. "Good," he coughed, "timing."

"Lay still," she commanded, and her hands hovered over him, a golden light surrounding them and healing his self-inflicted wounds. She stepped back a minute later and stood up, offering Chris her hand to help him up. He refused it, scrambling to his feet using the wall for support. "What happened?" she questioned.

"What happened?" he repeated furiously. "I was attacked, that's what happened!"

"For what reason?" asked Angela the Elder. "Do you think an attack on the whiteligter community is in the near future?"

"I don't know," he spat, "you tell me." His eyes burned with suspicion as he glared at her.

"Chris," she frowned.

"I was summoned down here," he told her, "and I immediately threatened to blast those demons to pieces — I thought they were after the Charmed Ones. But no, they told me they had been given their assignment by someone much more powerful than me and before I knew what was happening they were — before I knew it they said they would summon a person who would teach me real pain. And they summoned _you_."

"Chris, believe me when I tell you I have absolutely no idea why they would say that!" Angela assured, shaking her head. "I would _never _want to see you hurt — you or any whitelighter — but you especially. I know the part you had in helping Leo to save our kind. I have not forgotten, I swear to you."

"Then which of _your kind_ did they mean to summon? It had to be one of the other Elders, doesn't it?"

"No!" Angela defended. "Of course not. No Elder would ever work with demons for any reason, Chris, especially not to hurt you or any other whitelighter. How can you think that?"

"How can I _not_ think that, Angela? Those demons aren't powerful enough to take me on and to summon you without help. No way. And the way they were talking — it was clear that they weren't answering to anyone down here." He was quiet for a moment. "It wouldn't be the first time," he said darkly, "that an Elder's turned."

"The last time an Elder turned was two thousand years ago, Chris!" Angela exclaimed.

He looked away from her, shaking his head.

"I'm not a fool, Angela. Someone, some Elder, hired those demons. And I'm gonna figure out who."

"No, please, listen to me," Angela told him, a note of pleading in her voice. "There are more important thing with which to be concerned, Chris. Growing evils from whom we have heard nothing for centuries are showing signs of — of returning. We need people like you on our side now. I _promise_ you that no Elder could possibly be working with those demons."

"Really?" he asked slowly. "You can truly swear to me on behalf of every Elder that there is no temptation for any of you to turn? You just mentioned a growing evil." He paused. "I'm from the future, Angela. I know exactly what's coming."

Her eyes went wide.

"And I don't know exactly who it starts with, but I know battle lines are about to be drawn among the Elders. And I know that ultimately, you're all destroyed." His words seemed to echo in the silent dungeon. Prue was riveted. How much was Chris acting? How much of what he said was the truth and how much was a carefully crafted web of lies? And how the _hell_ had he gotten so good at this?

She knew how, really. But _still_. . . .

"You said that the last Elder who turned did so thousands of years ago," Chris told her quietly. "And this new power, would you really say its been centuries since it was a threat, or more like a couple thousand years?" He raised his eyebrows in question.

"My God," Angela said softly, turning away from him to stare into space, amazement clear on her face. Whatever Chris was doing, it was working. She looked back at him. "You have no idea who . . . ?"

He shook his head. "And you know as well as I do that the information I do have can't be used. The repercussions could be — severe." She nodded in silent agreement. "But something has to be done, Angela," he went on. "You need to learn who's turned. Because if whoever did has any plans to hurt me or the Charmed Ones, I'll deal with him — or her — on my own. No matter what it takes to find him — and stop him." His voice was steely, and Prue had to admit it was rather frightening as well.

"I'll see what I can find out," Angela finally said. She paused, ideas seemingly still forming in her mind. "I'll have to . . . we must go about this carefully, Chris. Say nothing to anyone, do you hear me? Not even the Charmed Ones. I'll see if I can find any information and I'll alert you if and when I do."

He nodded. "Thank you," he said, and for this first time his voice softened.

"You're a good whitelighter, Chris. A powerful one, too. We will need you on our side. Do not lose your faith in us. If there is an Elder who has turned, I'll discover him." Once more, Chris nodded, and Angela orbed away.

Prue could barely process everything that had just happened. When Chris turned to her, he looked so pleased with himself, and it was like the cherry on top of the sundae that was this entire insane endeavor. She stood and stepped out of her hiding spot. "What the hell was that?"

"That was me making a new friend," Chris replied calmly.

"Couldn't you have just told her the truth?"

"No." He didn't hesitate. She sighed.

"Why didn't you tell me that's what we were going to do?"

"I've learned that the less people who know the plan, the better it usually goes," he told her, and he was already approaching the alter behind which she'd crouched, his fingers brushing over the athame and vials that rested there.

"Why did you even want me to come along?" she questioned, her annoyance rising as she crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him.

"You wanted to come along," he replied, glancing at her as if challenging her to argue. Prue could only stare at him. If an Elder was really responsible for all of this, his method of manipulating them to get information was rather brilliant, really. She had to give him that. But still . . . she didn't like how little she'd been involved. She was there to _help_ him, not to sit on her ass and watch.

"Let's go," Chris announced suddenly, pocketing the athame.

"Back to the Manor?"

He frowned. "No, we need to round up the three demons that escaped. We can't have them blabbing to other demons or inquiring Elders about what really happened. I had hoped Angela would kill them all, but, well, I guess I'll have to finish the job."

"Is this the part where I get to help??"

"Yes," he said, and he gave the smallest of smiles, "this is the part where you get to help."

The next hour was much more Prue Halliwell's style.

Chris, it seemed, was something of an amateur tracker, at least when it came to finding demons. He orbed them from cavern to cavern, using the athame as a guide, and Prue felt her adrenaline pumping faster and faster every time they found themselves face to face with another demon and had to fight their way out. Chris had her powers, and he knew how to use them well.

Together, they totally kicked ass.

Prue had only a small cut on her arm and Chris a slightly bruised hand when they orbed into a room that had the feel of an abandoned apartment room on the wrong side of town, and there were the three demons they sought, all arguing in some sort of ancient language. Prue glanced at Chris to see a slow smile slip across his face, and with practiced ease he threw the athame.

It flew through the air in a perfect arc and landed straight in the heart of one demon, who immediately disappeared in a satisfying poof. The other two demons began cursing and one started to shimmer, but Prue had already kicked his feet out from under him, and while Chris fought the third, Prue reached for the athame to finish the one who was clawing at her leg.

Demons really were pathetic, she thought.

Right as her fingers closed around the athame, however, orbs appeared a few feet away, momentarily distracting her, and the demon aimed a violent kick to her stomach, knocking the wind out of her and shoving her backwards.

The demon scrambled away from her, and Chris shouted, "Stop him!"

Piper blew the demon up in an instant and Chris used his powers to tug the knife from Prue's grasp and send it straight into the face of the final demon, who let out a shout as he disappeared into nothing. The room was strangely silent, then, and the sound of their heavy breathing was magnified.

Paige, Phoebe, and Piper all stood in a row, Chris was slowly rising to his feet, wiping sweat from his brow with his sleeve, and Prue took a deep breath. It was over. Her heart was still racing "Perfect timing," she told her sisters, smiling. She pushed herself to her feet.

_Damn_, it felt good to blow up some demons again.

"It looked as if you two were doing pretty well without us," Phoebe observed, smiling back widely at Prue.

"We were until you arrived," Chris said, a slight growl in his voice. "I'm assuming you scried?"

"We wanted to make sure everything was okay," Piper said softly. "You disappeared last night. How — how are you feeling?" She took a hesitant step towards him.

"I'm fine. Look, I'm — I'm tired. And I think I'm just gonna go back to the club and get some sleep. I'm sorry I didn't come to dinner last night. I've been following some leads lately, and some times I . . . some times things get out of hand. I couldn't make it. I'm sorry."

Prue waited for one of her sisters to call him on that bullshit.

"It's alright," Piper said softly. "If you want to come by for dinner tonight, though, you're welcome to —"

"Thanks, but right now, all I can think about is sleep. I'll see you later."

And he was gone.

Piper sighed, running a hand over her face. "That went well," declared Paige, making a face. Phoebe looked over at Prue, who could only stare in disbelief at her sisters.

"What was that?" she demanded. "You know he was lying to you! Why didn't you say anything?"

"What would we have said?" asked Piper. "He didn't want to hear anything we could have come up with. He just wanted to get away from us." Her voice was bitter, and it made Prue as angry as Chris conveniently leaving her out of his earlier plans had.

"He might not want to," Prue told her, "but that's all the more reason to _make_ him, Piper."

No one said anything for a moment. Finally, Paige broke the silence, asking Prue, "So what's going on? What were the two of you doing?" Piper and Phoebe both looked at her eagerly, their stares echoing Paige's questions.

And Prue faltered. What did she say? Her immediate urge was simple: she ought to tell them the truth. It would be easy to do. But she had _promised_ Chris she wouldn't. It might be better if they knew, but what if he took it as a betrayal? What if he cut her out? After today, she could easily imagine him doing that.

"Prue?" Phoebe prompted.

"He has a list of demons he wants to get rid of," Prue said, making it up as she went, "and he agreed to let me help him go down the list. Apparently he's summoned me in the future and we were somehow close enough that he was willing to let me help him in this time."

"A list, huh?" Paige asked. "That sounds like him. Neurotic little freak." She gave Prue a knowing smile. Prue returned it, but the guilt that swirled in her stomach was thick. She would need to tell Chris what she had told them. She hated lying to her sisters, she really did, and she hated how they believed her without question, but . . . she couldn't break her promise.

She orbed back to the Manor with her sisters. There was a lot to think about: Chris and his manner of lying and manipulation; her own lies to her sisters; Chris and his refusal to have a single meal with his family; the inability of her sisters to reach out to Chris, to make him listen; and most important of all — did an Elder really go after Wyatt? And how would they stop that Elder?

But as Piper set about making dinner, Prue couldn't help but focus on simply spending what time she could with her sisters.

* * *

Phoebe couldn't sleep.

Her day hadn't been hard, but it had been a long one. She had awoken to find that Chris was already gone; it seemed he couldn't stick around the Manor long, even if he was sick. She had then spent most of the day distracting herself at work, only to finish her afternoon chasing down Chris and returning to the Manor to pretend that things with her nephew weren't as terrible as ever.

It was good to see Prue.

It was amazing, almost unreal. Sometimes magic still astounded Phoebe. She had seen so many miracles, but this had to be the greatest one of all: if only for a short time, she had her big sister back. Once more she could see Prue, could talk and laugh with her, could hug her and touch her arm and make her smile.

It was all rather bittersweet, though, because as Piper had made dinner that night, as Phoebe had sat in the kitchen with all three of her sisters, her mind had continually flickered back to Chris and everything that was happening with him and Salome and Wyatt, and she knew the same thoughts were haunting her sisters, though none of them acknowledged it.

It appeared impossible for Phoebe to enjoy Prue's presence completely, not while things with Chris were so awful. And now it seemed impossible for her to do something as simple as fall asleep. She glanced at her bedroom clock; it was past one in the morning. She sighed, staring up at the ceiling.

Maybe a little reading would help. She turned on the light and grabbed the _People_ magazine by her bed. Two minutes later and she had already lost interest. She looked over at her bookshelf, considering. Finally, though, she resigned herself to the truth: she would feel best reading a little out of the _Book of Shadows_. Somehow it always calmed her a little, as if simply reading it gave her power.

At the very least it always made her feel as if she had done something to help the situation, whatever the situation was. Slipping on a sweatshirt — why did Paige insist on keeping the house so cold? — she left her bedroom and slowly climbed the stairs to the attic.

She didn't expect to find that someone else was already reading the _Book._

"Chris," she said, her surprise clear. He looked up from where he sat on an old sofa, clearly not expecting her either. "What are you — is everything okay? Has something happened?" She couldn't help her concern: she wouldn't put it past him to try and deal with something terrible without even telling them.

"Everything's fine," he quickly assured. "I was just looking a few things up." He gave a tight smile. "What are you doing up here?"

"Just wanted to read a little in the _Book._ It always calms me down," she admitted.

"Is there a reason you need to be calmer?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Things aren't exactly picture perfect right now." He didn't reply right away. He only closed the _Book _and stood up. He was going to leave, she knew it. She thought about what Prue had said: he might not want to listen, but they had to _make_ him. It was the only way.

"I guess I'll get out of your way then." Again, he gave another smile, and it didn't even come close to reaching his eyes.

"You don't always have to go like that," she said, the words tumbling from her before she could stop herself. His face seemed to tighten.

"What?" he asked, his guard clearly up. It frustrated her further, and she found her determination to make him listen just as Prue said building.

"You know what?" she replied. "Is it really so hard to stay in the same room with me or Paige or Piper? Would it kill you to talk to us for five minutes? Or to, I don't know, have one meal with us?"

He sighed, glancing away and looking back at her with an annoyed gleam in his eye. "I couldn't make dinner, Phoebe. I got caught up in other things. Don't make a bigger deal out of this than it is."

"This is a big deal!" she exclaimed. "Because I'm talking about more than dinner. Where do you have to go right now, Chris? Back to the club by yourself? What would be so wrong about staying and talking with me?"

"What is it you need to talk about?" he asked patronizingly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Everything! Anything! We're your _family_, Chris; you should be able to sit in the same room with us, with me. It won't kill you. I'm not asking you to tell me all about your life —"

"Oh, no?' he interrupted, his voice biting. "That's usually all you want to talk about."

"Oh my God, Chris; I'm just trying to get close to you! We're your family," she repeated desperately, "_I'm_ your family. Why do you refuse to accept that?"

He stared at her. "Because it doesn't work that way," he finally replied. "You can't ignore me and hate me and treat me with suspicion and dislike and then as soon as you invade my mind and find out I'm related to you suddenly act nice and expect everything to be okay. The fact I'm your nephew shouldn't change anything.'

"It changes everything!" she said, nearly shouting. How could he not understand that?

"It doesn't," he insisted angrily, and his eyes flashed. "You don't even know anything about me."

"Because you won't let me!"

"The only reason you suddenly want to spent time with me and get to know me and talk to me is because you've found out that we're related," he said angrily, "and that's not a good enough reason, Phoebe —"

But she wasn't having any of that.

"It's the only reason I have!" she yelled. He went silent. "What do you expect, Chris? You say we treated you badly for months? Sure, you're right, we did. We didn't trust you. But that goes both ways, Chris. You didn't trust us either. You lied to us; you manipulated us — and yes, I know you had good reason to, but that doesn't change the fact that you can't expect us to get close to someone who's _manipulating _us, no matter the reason."

"I did what I had to," he replied curtly. "I didn't come to the past to make friends."

"I'm not saying you did! What I'm saying is that you refuse to let us get to know you, to have a reason to like you. The fact that you're our family is the _only_ reason we have. I wish there was another. I wish you would open up to us. But you won't!" She stared at him, willing him to understand and wishing she could feel his emotions. He said nothing.

"And the truth is that I believe family loves one another no matter what," she went on. "Piper and Prue proved that to me when I was your age and I didn't know up from down. Once upon a time, the fact that I was their family was the only reason they cared about me. I was horrible then. I didn't deserve their love. But they gave it anyway, because I was family.

"And you're the same way, Chris. We keep trying because you're family. And that fact isn't reason to resent us. To hate us." She had let it out without stopping, and once it was all said, there was nothing left to do but wait for his response. He didn't give one. His face was hard, his mouth a thin line, but he wasn't meeting her gaze.

"Chris," she said empathetically, stepping towards him. "If you're afraid to grow close to us because you'd have to return to a world where we're no longer around — that's not . . . you said Wyatt killed me, which means if we save Wyatt then we save me, too. And Paige. And your mom, she — we've already saved her."

He finally looked at her and allowed their eyes to meet. "You're a good mom, Phoebe. A good wife and a good mom." She didn't know what she had been expecting him to say, but that certainly wasn't it. "But you're not a good aunt. And it's not like Leo is with Wyatt and me . . . you aren't there for me _or_ for Wyatt or for Penny or Paige. And — that's okay, really. No one's perfect.

"And that was just the way it was," he said. "You loved me, I guess, but I was never that close to you. It never even occurred to me to be close to you. I didn't miss having a relationship with you because I had never had one, and neither had Wyatt or Penny or . . . you can't miss what you've never known."

She swallowed thickly. How could she not be a good aunt? How could she turn into someone who would focus solely on her own husband and children and life and not care about the children of her sisters?

"But if I grow close to you now, Phoebe, if I sit and talk with you and let you get to know me and I get to know you. . . . If you're right and it goes well and — and it changes our relationship and everything is better, then . . . I still have to go back to the future." He paused, and for the first time in so long, there was real emotion on his face, etched into his features.

"And can you promise that you won't become the Aunt Phoebe I know?" he asked. "Because if you do, if you become the woman I knew my entire childhood, and I grow close to you now, then I'll be returning to a world where, even if you're alive, you aren't around and you don't have time for me, but this time —this time, I'll know what I'm missing."

It was painfully silent for a moment.

"Can you really blame me for pushing you away?" he asked softly. "I'm not here to change our relationship, Phoebe. That is . . . what it is. No one's life is perfect. No one's family is perfect. And if you want to go on loving me purely because I'm your family — go ahead. Maybe you're right. Maybe it's the only reason I've given you."

"Chris. . . ."

"But I'm not here for that. I'm not interested in giving you another reason to love me. I'm not asking you to love me. I'm here to save my brother. Because he — he wasn't always evil, Phoebe." His voice softened. "Once upon a time he was . . . he was my best friend. He was my big brother. And when he grew into the person that slaughtered his own family, I missed the brother I'd known. And I'm here, in the past, to get that back. That's it."

He turned away from her, running a hand over his face much the way Piper had earlier.

"Maybe you coming here, no matter the reason, is what'll help me change, Chris." She stepped closer to him. "Maybe knowing you now will help me better aunt in the future," she said, trying one last time to reach out to him.

She placed her hand on his shoulder.

"You are so strong, Chris. So much like Prue. You have this determination, and this goodness in you that I see, and I — I see it and I know, I _know_ that I could love you even if you weren't my family if only I had the chance to. If only you would let me. And maybe if I can, then I will be a good aunt one day."

"There are worse things to be than a bad aunt," he responded, his voice strange. "If I were you, I wouldn't think too much on it."

He glanced at her for a moment and then, his eyes still on hers, he shrugged out from under her grasp and orbed, leaving her hand hanging in midair. She didn't stop him, though. She couldn't. She'd lost her voice for a moment when she'd met his gaze.

Because he'd been crying.

And that's when she realized that she was, too.

**To Be Continued . . .**

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* * *

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A/N: What'd you think? I'm not sure I like this chapter very much -- the ending is probably my favorite part. Please review and let me know what you think! The next chapter should be up sooner (I'll really, really try!)


	18. Chapter 18

_A/N: It has been so, so long since I've updated, and I'm sure some people thought I abandoned the story. I'm sorry! I have most certainly NOT abandoned it, and I don't plan on doing so anytime soon. I'm way too attached! But a HUGE change just happened in my life, and more are soon to follow (for example, my brother is getting married! and I'm in the wedding!) Updates are going to be much farther apart, but no matter what, I'll keep the story going, I promise. Since it's been so long, I better remind you that this is AU after "Prince Charming" and -- as I'm sure you're aware -- I own no actual rights to anything Charmed. Enjoy chapter eighteen! :)_

* * *

When Leo felt Chris sitting on the bridge, he couldn't help himself: he orbed to his son.

Chris sat with his legs crossed and his chin resting in his hand, a pensive look on his face as he stared out into nothing. It was windy — it was always windy on the bridge — but tonight especially. Leo took a hesitant steps towards Chris. He knew it was a fruitless effort, but in the last twenty-four hours he had been unable to get the words Chris had told him in a drunken rage out of his head.

"What do you want?" Chris asked sourly, not looking at Leo, not moving a muscle, as if Leo weren't worthy of more than four dry words.

"When you were growing up, why did your Mom and I separate?" He had decided that the best way would simply be to ask Chris questions, to demand answers of him. Trying to reach out to the boy in hopes that Chris would open up to him was a waste of time at this point.

"Why do you even care?" Chris replied.

"Because I want to understand," Leo answered. "I want to know why you hate me so much. I want to know what it is I did when you were young that made me the villain." Chris didn't respond. Leo took a step towards him, willing his voice to betray his emotions and communicate with Chris how very desperate he was for, at the very least, simple answers. "I want to know what could make a son hate his father as much as you do."

Slowly, painfully so, Chris looked over at him. "You're not my father," he said, his words careful and clear. Leo swallowed thickly. "You're Wyatt's father. Wyatt is the child you wanted; Wyatt is the child you had time for. _Wyatt_ is your son. Not me."

They stared at one another for a moment, both with hard eyes and thin mouths, neither willing to break or turn away. Finally, Leo spoke. "I'm not going anywhere, Chris. Whatever it takes, I'll prove to you that I _do_ care about you. I may have made mistakes in your past; I may have been a horrible father. But I don't want to be and I'm willing to change, I'm willing to be better than I am. I love you and I'm not giving up, no matter how hard you push me away."

Chris stared at him for so long Leo wondered if his words had actually had an effect. Chris looked out at the skyline for a fraction of a moment and then looked back at Leo with a weary glint in his eyes. "Good luck with that," he said calmly. He orbed. Leo gazed at the spot his son had sat, wondering if, in fact, he _wouldn't_ be able to prove anything to the boy.

* * *

Piper slowed as she approached the room and she stopped in the door frame, watching. Prue sat cross-legged on the ground, playing with Wyatt. For a moment Piper's heart swelled at the sight. When Wyatt had been born she had been saddened at the thought that Prue would never know him and he Prue, but now. . . .

Prue looked up, as if sensing Piper. She gave a soft smile, but there was a sadness reflecting in her eyes. "I know it was my time to die," she said softly. "I know that it was the only way Paige could find her way home. I know that. But sometimes . . . I wish I could have been around for just a little longer."

She looked back down at Wyatt, and Piper pretended she didn't see the tears gathering in her older sister's lashes. Prue had never been one to cry in front of others, not if she could help it.

"But you're here now," Piper said. Prue nodded slowly, reaching out a hand to softly touch the downy fuzz on Wyatt's head. She looked up at Piper, who knew immediately — sadly — what Prue was about to say.

"I can't be here for much longer," Prue murmured. "I don't belong here. They let me come, but I can feel . . . they don't want me here for long. And I — this isn't my place any more."

'But —" Piper took a desperate step toward her sister. The idea of losing her so soon after she had returned to them — they _needed _her. . . .

"You know its true, Piper, you know it," said Prue, smiling softly, indulgently, at her little sister. "They wouldn't have let me come down if they didn't think you'd be able to let me go." Piper looked away. She didn't want to cry either.

"What about Chris?" asked Piper. "That's what we brought you here for. Phoebe and Paige and I . . . we don't know how to reach out to him and to — he won't let us —"

"Piper," Prue interrupted, shaking her head. "Have you really forgotten what our lives were like before we got our magic? And even that first year after? I wasn't the one who kept our family together.

"It was _you._ You kept in contact with Phoebe and never let her truly leave our family. _You,_ Piper, not me. There's no one in this world who knows or — or _cares_ more about family than you," Prue said, pushing herself to her feet. "I know it, beyond the shadow of a doubt, do you hear me? And if I had to guess, I'd say that Chris knows it to, even if he won't —_ can't _admit it."

Piper didn't know what to say. "Yesterday, when you and Phoebe and Paige just let Chris leave . . . I know that you're scared to lose him, but Piper, right now you don't have him — you don't have anything to lose!" She reached out and grabbed Piper's hands. "And if you're afraid to lose his love . . . if you only believe one thing out of my cold, dead lips, let it be this: that kid _loves you_, Piper. He loves you."

Before Piper knew what was happening, she was wrapped in her sister's arms, hugging her fiercely. She had accepted Prue's death, it was true. She had moved on and she knew she could survive without her. But, _God_, at moments like this she wished she didn't have to. "I love you, too, hon," Prue whispered.

Piper only hugged her tighter, letting the hot tears leak into Prue's shoulder. When they finally broke apart, Piper swiped at her eyes, giving a watery laugh. She only looked at her sister, knowing there weren't really any words.

She was about to turn to Wyatt when Phoebe's desperate shout split the air. There was a crash and then Paige screamed as well, all in a fraction of a second. Alarms sounded in Piper's mind. Looking at Prue, she knew the same thoughts were rushing through her sister's head.

"Force field, Wyatt," Piper instructed, and as soon as the blue appeared, she and Prue sprinted down the stairs to find Paige lending her hand to Phoebe, who had crashed into the clock, which lay in pieces along with a vase and the living room coffee table. Phoebe winced as she gingerly rubbed her arm.

"Demons?" Piper asked. Phoebe only nodded, glancing distastefully at the clock. Piper sighed a little to herself; why they even bothered to pay to fix that clock again and again was beyond her. Half the money from the club went into that damn clock.

"Wait, so what happened?" pressed Prue.

"I was in the kitchen," Paige explain, shrugging her shoulders helplessly. "I came when I heard Phoebe yell. . . ." She looked at Phoebe as if for some sort of explanation.

"I don't know. They appeared in the room and attacked," Phoebe said. "I have no idea why. As soon as Paige and I put up enough of a fight they disappeared again. Its like they weren't really trying to kill us, they were just —"

"Distracting us," Paige said with a flood of understanding.

"Wyatt," Piper breathed immediately, already racing back towards the stairs. "WYATT!" she yelled, as if he would hear her and respond. Whether or not her sisters followed didn't matter. If demons had Wyatt _again_. . . . She cursed herself as she reached the second landing and burst into his nursery.

But he sat untouched right where they'd left him, and at the sight of his mother, he gurgled happily and let his force field fall. "Oh, thank God," she muttered, clutching her chest and taking a gasping breath as all three of her sisters came up behind her.

"He's fine," Prue observed, relief that mirrored Piper's evident in her voice. She smiled at her small nephew and then at Piper.

"Thank God," Phoebe said, echoing Piper.

"But then what — ?" Paige frowned.

"I think this calls for the _Book_," Prue said. "Do you think you can identify the demons?"

Paige nodded. "We should call Leo, too," Phoebe added. "And . . . Chris."

"He'll probably be pissed," Paige replied as Piper picked up her son and they started towards the attic, one after another in single file. "You know how he gets when he finds out Wyatt's been in danger and nobody called him."

"Wyatt wasn't in danger," Phoebe argued. Piper clutched her son tighter, pressing a kiss to his head. "And we are calling him. Chris! Leo! Family meeting!" She pushed open the door of the attic.

Leo came in an instant. "Is everything okay?" he asked. He looked at Piper and she knew he understood by the look on her face, the gleam in her eyes, and the way she held Wyatt protectively to her that something had happened. "Is _he_ okay?" Leo asked, his concern increasing.

"He's fine," Prue assured. "But demons attacked Phoebe and Paige, and we're not sure what their end game was . . . or, I guess, _is._" Paige was already flipping through the book.

"What did the demons look like?" Leo questioned, glancing among the sisters. "How many of them were there?"

"Three," Phoebe answered, running a hand through her hair. "They looked like . . . demons. There were sort of . . . eh," her face contorted as she shrugged. "Thin," she finally settled on. "They were really thin and stingy-looking. And they had flat noses and weird eyes."

"Weird?" Prue frowned.

"Like a . . . snake's, almost," Phoebe said, obviously grasping for some way to explain her attackers.

"And they didn't say anything?" Prue question.

Phoebe shook her head. "They just attacked." She sighed before glancing around and, her face hardening a little, yelling, "Chris! We've got problems!"

"What do you think the chances are they're after Wyatt?" Piper asked, not letting her mind linger on her other son and his choice to once again ignore their pleas.

"They might have been after something entirely different," Leo suggested soothingly. "From Phoebe's description, they sound like —"

"Serpentes," Paige declared, looking up from the book triumphantly. Leo nodded.

"What are they?" Piper questioned, even as Phoebe said, "I think I remember reading about them in the book."

"'Serpentes,'" Paige read, "'are demons who, according to legend, are descended from snakes.' Because that wasn't obvious. Anyway: 'Known for cunning, quick movements, and the deadly poison their blood possesses, serpentes are usually assassins working for other demons, but are generally outcasts in the underworld due to their habit of killing the demons who hire them.'" She looked up from the book.

"Anything else?" Prue asked.

"A pretty picture," said Paige. "But otherwise, nope, nothing else."

"Do you know anything else about them?" Phoebe asked Leo. He shook his head.

"I know they're usually not considered a real threat," he answered. "They're supposed to be extremely clever, but — if I remember correctly — they don't often care about anyone but themselves, so as long as you don't bother them. . . ."

"Well, apparently that's not the case for us," Piper said, anger surfacing. Why did the damn demons who were allegedly _apathetic_ always have to come after her family?

"Wait, so let's get this straight: they were probably hired by other demons, right?" Prue asked. "And it seems as if their attack was a distraction." Phoebe and Paige both nodded. "The question, then, is _why_ they were trying to distract us. What did they want?"

No one responded immediately. "Maybe they went after Wyatt but his force field protected him," Phoebe suggested, but there wasn't much conviction to her words.

"We would have heard a struggle," Piper argued, "and Wyatt would have been upset when we found him. No, they weren't after Wyatt. . . ."

"Chris might have an idea," Paige said. "He usually knows more about all the demons we go up against then we do. If he's dealt with them before, he might know what they want now."

Piper nodded, clinging to the new idea. It seemed plausible. "Chris!" she called. "We need you!"

"Chris!" Prue yelled. "Come on!"

"Oh my God," Phoebe muttered, horror spreading across her face. She looked at her sisters to see if one of them had realised what she had, but it seemed she was the only one. "Oh my God," she repeated, "_Chris._"

"What?" Paige frowned.

"They didn't distract us so someone could get Wyatt," Phoebe exclaimed, "they wanted Chris!"

Piper stared for a moment, only to yell fiercely, "CHRIS, GET YOUR BUTT OVER HERE!" Silence danced around the room, and Chris didn't appear. It couldn't be, right? Chris was just ignoring them again, pretending he had something better to do and. . . .

"He might be up on the bridge," Leo said, swallowing thickly. "I was talking to him there earlier. I'll go check." He glanced at Piper but she had nothing to say. He orbed away.

"I'll check the club," Paige volunteered, following right after Leo in a second glow of orbs.

"What could they — could _anybody_ — want with him?" Piper asked.

"I don't know, sweetie," Phoebe replied softly. "I have a feeling, though, that Chris has more than a few enemies." Piper felt her desperation rise. If someone had gone to all the trouble of assuring that she and her sisters were distracted, though they weren't even with Chris, then. . . .

"But we'll find him," Prue assured, firm optimism in her voice. "If somebody's got a hold of him, we'll find him and help him and kick a little demon booty." She wrapped an arm around Piper's shoulders. "Trust me, little sis."

* * *

After being knocked out, consciousness always came quickly to Chris.

If he had to guess, he'd say it was probably some sort of witchly instinct embedded in the Halliwell genes . . . or maybe it was years of dodging Wyatt and his evil minions. It didn't really matter which. It came in handy either way.

He was lying on his stomach, his cheek pressed to a cold, wet ground when the grogginess began to lift. Feeling flowed through his limbs, and he realised his position sprawled across a hard surface. The coppery taste of blood was in his mouth, and he could feel something trickling down his face, something that was most likely more blood. His head pounded, but he didn't let his eyes flutter open.

He had no idea who might be watching, and what the advantage of keeping his eyes closed might be. He strained his ears for any clues, and the soft sounds of clinking and shuffling and general movement floated into his weary mind. What had happened?

He had been at the club, working on strategy. Paige had always told him that when in doubt, the best method was to put thoughts to paper and try and logically work out the answer. Prue had always been a big proponent of that, too.

He had been trying it. His pen was on paper and his sole focus on the work, and suddenly — he was here. Someone had attacked him. Who? Salome? No, this wasn't her style. And if the Elders had discovered him, they would have used the information differently, too. But then who? Why?

Suddenly Chris felt someone standing over him. He put every effort he had into not straightened under the gaze. And then his captor nudged him. "Are you awake?" asked a man. Chris couldn't help it: he frowned at the voice of. . . . The footsteps immediately retreated, and before he could be stopped, Chris's eyes flew open and he leapt to his feet to face whoever had taken him.

And it was exactly who had thought on first hearing the voice. He was amazed. "_Sigmund_?" he asked incredulously.

"Hello, Chris," the small man greeted, giving a tight smile and pushing his glasses up on his nose. "I'm sorry for knocking you out," he apologised, shifting uncomfortably. "It was necessary."

"For what, _exactly_?' Chris asked angrily. He started to take a step back, only for Sigmund's eyes to go wide in alarm at the same moment lightening struck Chris's back and knocked him forward to his knees. He gritted his teeth at the sudden pain and felt his whole body tighten at the sight of the crystal cage around him.

Why the hell would the magic school assistant knock him out and put him in a crystal cage?

"Oh, I'm sorry!" Sigmund exclaimed, looking truly distressed. "I should have warned you. That was my fault. I'm sorry. But it's — it's necessary." He gave a sad, grim smile, looking a little pathetic.

"What's going on?" Chris demanded, feeling no pity. He didn't have time for this. "Why was all this _necessary_?" He stood, his lips a thin, angry line.

"I need you to . . . to tell me about Wyatt. About how he turns evil." Sigmund swallowed, trying to stand taller. Chris knew without a doubt that Sigmund was out of his element. He was a school assistant. Chris had only met him a few times, but it was enough to be able to read him now, read how uncomfortable he was.

Hell, he would be able to tell how uncomfortable the small man was even if he'd _never_ met him. "Why do you care?" Chris asked, carefully guarding his thoughts and emotions.

Sigmund sighed, closing his eyes and muttering something to himself for a moment. "I just . . . I need to know. He's going to — to turn very evil, and the greater good will suffer. So it's — it's — it's very important that we . . . don't — that we don't let that happen. Which is why I need you to — which is why if we stop him, then you'll never have to come back, which means it doesn't matter that. . . ." His voice trailed off and he shifted awkwardly again.

_You can smell the fear, little brother_, Wyatt whispered in his ear. _He is no real threat to you._

"I know its a _threat to the greater good_," Chris quoted, gritting his teeth and staring fiercely at the man, who, as Chris had hoped, was appropriately terrified. "But that's why I've come to the past. _I'll_ save him. Its not any of your concern." For the briefest moment, the ridiculous thought that the Charmed Ones or Leo had put Sigmund up to this flickered to the front of his mind.

But there was no way. Their method involved more sucking up to him and trying to hug him and feed him and pretend they were a loving family. No, this was a third party. But who?

Sigmund bobbed his head, licking his lips apprehensively. "But — but — what if I could help? Then would you tell me what you know?"

Chris glared at him. Sigmund looked away, groaning a little to himself. He was no where close to the mastermind behind this. _So who was?_ "What is it you're hoping I'll tell you?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "And who wants to know?"

"Um, ah — what? I — I want to know." Sigmund's eyes had gone round, and Chris almost did feel a little pity for the poor man.

Almost.

"You expect me to believe you're not working for anyone? That you coordinated all this by yourself?" He raised his questions in disbelief and Sigmund let out a strangled laugh.

"I'm sorry," he whined, "I really am. I didn't want to do this. But it's — it's _necessary_. I don't have a choice. . . . It's for the greater good!"

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" Chris questioned slowly, and Sigmund looked away. If Chris weren't as well trained, he would have smiled. It wasn't going to be hard to escape from this, and then it was only a matter of time before he connected Sigmund to whoever the real culprit was.

"Just, please — just — what do you know about how Wyatt turns? Like — like how old is he? Please tell me? Please?" Sigmund asked, pushing his slipping glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

"Look, if you honestly want to help, then I'll tell you everything I know," Chris told him. "But if that's the case, then move the crystals. I'm not use to working with allies while _caged_." He spat the word and Sigmund winced in response.

"I really sh-shouldn't," he said slowly.

"Why not?" Chris questioned. If he worked the right angle at the right pace. . . .

Before Sigmund could reply, however, a demon shimmered into the room. He wore a dark cloak as they all did — Chris could hear Paige muttering about it in his head — and he was bald with a large nose ring and black lips. There was absolutely nothing distinguishing about him. "Haven't you finished yet?" the demon snarled, glancing distastefully at Chris.

Fuck.

Chris couldn't even identify the demon. And how was Sigmund working with demons? That couldn't mean anything good. He had only needed a minute more to work on Sigmund and he would have been home free.

"Not — not yet," Sigmund said. "He only just woke up."

"It's been three hours!" the demon roared, and Sigmund flinched, hunching up his shoulders automatically. Chris immediately began to calculate the chances of the sisters noticing he was missing within three hours. Slim. How soon would they?

"I didn't want to wake him!" Sigmund defended. "And, _actually_, its been closer to two and half hours."

"You should have woken him," the demon spat, sparing another filthy glare for Chris.

"Don't — don't you tell me how to do my job," Sigmund said, straightening up with an inkling of bravery. "You know — you know if it were up to me, we wouldn't be working with demons."

"Good thing it isn't," the demon replied fiercely, nearly growling at Sigmund, who's courage seemed to deflate like air out of popped balloon. "I'll take over from here." He turned to Chris, curling his dark lips and revealing a set of razor teeth, all yellowed and chipped.

Chris knew that if he could just think for a moment — just a moment — he'd be able to remember the breed of demon that had such teeth. They were carnivorous and had even been known to eat other demons and if he could just think back to his tutelage under Paige and all her talk of —

"What do you know of the witch Wyatt?" growled the demon. "Tell me!"

Chris snorted. "Was that supposed to be your scary growl? Am I supposed to tremble in submission? 'Cause if so, I'd work on that." He smirked. The demon let out a furious growl and lunged at Chris only for the same crystals that kept him caged in to backfire and send the demon spiralling through the air.

Demons never were very bright, especially not when provoked.

As Chris had hoped, the crystal cage was broken, and he immediately leapt forward, tackling the demon and slammed his fist into the ugly face. The demon howled and attempted to claw at Chris, but he was no match.

Chris had long ago learned that if you couldn't always be prepared for an attack with magic, you sure as hell better be prepared in every other way. He could beat the shit out of the best of them.

"Oh, dear God," Sigmund cried from somewhere behind him. But Chris didn't have time to deal with the small, strange man now. One of the demon's hands — now more of a claw — landed home and grazed Chris across the chin, but the splash of blood was superficial, the pain ignorable.

Chris had nearly gotten control over the demon when his back went rigid. His breath caught in his chest and panic seized him at his sudden paralysis. He couldn't move.

He couldn't fucking _move._ Suddenly pain shot through him, white hot pain that made him want to scream. But he couldn't. His throat, his mouth, his lips — they were all as frozen as the rest of him, and he didn't release a single sound; the pain only rebounded in his head until he saw spots.

The last thing he remembered was a low, angry voice. _"What have you done?"_

* * *

Leo looked around the bridge yet again, knowing that his estranged son was not there but unable to accept the fact. How could he return to the sisters and tell them that Chris wasn't on the bridge? Hopefully Chris had simply gone back to the club; after all, he wouldn't want to sit for hours on the bridge.

They would find him and he would be perfectly fine, completely unharmed.

"Leo."

He spun around, his heart pounding, to see Angela standing before him, her blonde hair blowing softly in the wind as her robes billowed around her. "Angela," he greeted warily.

"I startled you," she observed softly. He nodded. "That shouldn't be. If you mediated more often, you would have a better sense of your surroundings. You would not be caught off guard." Leo sighed.

"I've been a little busy lately," he replied.

She gave a small smile. "I know. I didn't come here to criticise you. But the other Elders and I sensed you were near."

"I'm about to go back down," he said, before she could go on. "Demons attacked the Charmed Ones. Serpentes. We're not sure what they want."

"That shouldn't be your concern," she replied. "The Charmed Ones have dealt with demons before. You are an Elder now. You have much greater responsibilities."

"It's my family, Angela. Of course its my concern." How could the other Elders not understand that? And Angela, of all people — she had always been one of the more supportive, but now —

Angela looked down for a moment, and when she raised her eyes to him again, there was a sad gleam in them. "Leo, things aren't going well right now. We see . . . a great evil on the horizon, more terrible than any we have faced before. Things are changing . . . suspicions are being raised. We_ need _you."

"Angela —"

"When you were invited to be one of us, Leo, it was not only in gratitude for what you had done, but because you have the ability — the _strength_ — to deal with a crisis exactly like the one swiftly approaching. And you knew what you were giving up when you became one of us. No one has tricked you. No one has threatened you.

"You _chose_ this."

Leo suddenly heard Piper in his mind, yelling about his abandonment of her and their family. Had he made a choice? It had always seemed inevitable to him. The offer to become an Elder was the natural path his life was supposed to take, and it would have been pointless to try and take another road. . . . Right?

"I'm sorry, Angela, but I can't abandon my family. Not right now. Too much is at stake."

Slowly, she nodded. "It's okay, Leo. Your love for your family shapes who you are and the powers you possess." She paused. "But the Charmed Ones will have to handle this demon alone. The other Elders and I need to speak to you. It can't be put off any longer. You've been ignoring our calls."

Leo looked away, a slight mist of guilt rising in him. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"It's alright," Angela murmured. "But come with me now. The Charmed Ones are powerful. You know this better than anyone. We need you more right now." Slowly, Leo met her gaze. He knew she was right. If Chris was really in trouble, then the sisters would alert him and he would be able to help.

"Okay." She smiled at his response before holding out her hand, and when he grasped it, they orbed together.

* * *

Piper stared at the single sheet of paper that Paige had brought back from the club. It was covered in Chris's tight scrawl and showed a kind of chart or web with various demon clans and names of Elders circled. She had no idea what it was.

But wasn't what mattered. What mattered was the word _possible_, because it turned into a sudden, thick, unplanned line, and when Paige had returned from the club without Chris, she had held up the paper, displaying the line, and declaring, "I think Chris is in trouble."

It seemed almost silly that they would suspect he was in trouble because it looked as if he had abruptly been taken from a paper he was writing on, but Piper couldn't stop looking at that one, thick line. Her sisters were all discussing what to do. Leo had not returned, and it had been well over two hours now. They has scried for Chris and come up blank.

But there had to be _something_ else they could do, right?

Prue seemed to read her thoughts. "What about a To Call a Lost Witch spell? That might work." Piper's hope rose into her throat. The could work, couldn't it? Why hadn't they thought of it earlier? She looked back down at the accidental line, feeling her desperation grow even as her hope did.

"It doesn't very often," Phoebe replied, a critical vein in her tone. "And it works in different ways."

"But it's worth a shot," Piper said, and Phoebe's eyes softened at the words Piper chose.

"I say we try it," Paige announced.

"Okay," said Prue, and she nodded her head as if that settled it.

"But, wait," Piper said. "That will take too much time — the best way to do the spell is with the ritual and for that we'll have to gather rosemary and Cypress and —"

"Already done," said Paige, crossing the room and displaying the small, green baggy. "I've been putting together spell kits for emergencies," she added in explanation.

"Huh," Prue said, "that's smart. Sounds like something I would do." Paige beamed, handing the bag to Phoebe, who poured the ingredients into a basin and took a Pestle that Prue held out for her.

Piper joined her sisters around the basin. She had the knife in hand. If this didn't work. . . . "Wyatt, force field," Phoebe directed. Piper frowned. "Just in case," Phoebe murmured softly to her. What did she think would happen? What possible danger could this cause Wyatt?

"Let's to it," Prue said. "I remember the spell." Her excitement was clear. If she hadn't been so worried about Chris, Piper might have been amused by how much Prue loved and missed being a witch and casting spells.

But she _was _worried, and they had no time to waste.

_"Powers of the witches rise_," they began, and Phoebe used the Pestle. "_Come unseen across the skies, come to us who call you near, come to us and settle here." _

Her hand trembling, Piper cut her finger. If any blood would work, it would be hers. After all, didn't she have little, baby Chris inside her? A fierce protectiveness enveloped her, and her voice was firm as her blood dripped into the basin and they went on chanting, "_Blood to blood, I summon thee, blood to blood, return to me._"

The spell was done . . . and nothing happened. Piper's breath caught in her chest, and she nearly let out a groan of anger before all of sudden Chris materialised on the ground before them, as if rising out of it.

His face was white and a sheen of sweat covered him, but he was clearly unconscious. His clothing was blackened and burned, and Piper ran to him, collapsing on her knees. What had happened? Was he even — _no_, there was no way. He was alive . . . but just barely. "Leo!" she shouted as her sisters gathered around her and him.

"Chris," she murmured, pushing the hair from his face. "Chris, honey, it's okay, we're here. LEO!" She felt his pulse and the heartbeat was definitely there, but who knew what had been done to him? Why did this keep happening? Why was he always on the brink of death?

"He's gonna be fine, Piper, don't worry," Phoebe said encouragingly. "We've got him — it's okay — it's — LEO!"

"Paige," Prue began, "do you know how to —?"

Paige shook her head. If Piper had lifted her head, she would have seen the alarm written all over her sisters' faces, even as Phoebe continued to yell for Leo. "Healing is hard," Paige murmured. "I can't . . . even if I . . . not yet. . . ."

"Well," Prue said, "maybe if we —"

She went flying and crashed into the far wall of the attic.

Piper's head snapped up to see that someone had appeared in the attic, but it wasn't Leo: it was a demon, a bald man who, as he suddenly advancing on them and bared his razor like teeth at them in a feral growl, appeared more and more like an animal. Piper scrambled to her feet. "Table!" Paige shouted, sending the furniture flying at the demon.

The creature only roared, batting the table away as if it were a fly. His eyes landed on Chris, lying at Piper's feet. It was clear that he had come after him. He continued towards Chris and Piper lifted her hands to blast him only for Paige to send a potion at his back, one that made him arch backwards in a roar of pain.

"Gotcha, beasty!" Paige declared, raising her arm to throw another potion when the demon seemed to get a second wing and he crashed into her even as Phoebe cried out, "_Paige_!"

Phoebe ran at the demon, levitating herself into the air as Piper scrambled to Paige, who lay unmoving on the ground, blood pouring from a gash across her face. She had barely confirmed that her sister was alive when she looked up to see Phoebe gasping in pain on the ground, clutching her twisted leg.

How was this demon beating them?

Enough. Piper could end this. She lifted her hands to blast him into oblivion.

But it didn't work.

He was certainly blasted, but it only seemed to make him angry. His eyes glowing, he came towards her, still baring his teeth. Piper tried again but it still did nothing. Well, she could go all day. She was pregnant again and she was invincible, and if this bastard really thought he could touch her son, he was going to learn a very important lesson — his last.

He launched into a barrelling run towards her the way he had Paige, but she only kept blasting, unafraid. When he slammed into her and sent them both crashing to the ground, her back cried out in pain, but she only sent another blast and the left side of his face saw the end of its better days.

Then, his nails morphing into claws, he slashed her across the face.

The searing pain was a shock, and terror choked her at the realisation that Fetus Chris wasn't the same as Fetus Wyatt. She lay completely unprotected beneath a furious half-animal demon. He slashed across her chest this time and she screamed at the pain, barely aware at the rush of blood that flooded out of her.

The only thing she could think about was the tiny, unprotected baby inside her.

"Good bye, witch," the demon hissed in her ear.

And then he burst into nothing. She lay gasping, barely aware of Phoebe limping to her and Prue pushing herself to her feet, both in confusion. "What happened?" Piper gasped, and the words were painful to say, were like someone stabbed her lungs.

"You blew him up," Phoebe said, crouching down beside her. "Oh, God, honey — he's — LEO! GET DOWN HERE NOW!" Piper couldn't breath. She couldn't breath. She gasped but nothing happened. Black fringes began to appear on her vision.

But she need to — they needed to — she hadn't killed the — it wasn't — it wasn't —

She knew they were still shouting for Leo and talking to her, but their voices were growing more and more distorted, as if they were speaking through water, and she was barely aware of Prue stroking her hair lovingly.

And then she head the one word: "_Mom." _Gazing up hazily, she could see Chris, his face still pale and sweaty, looking down at her. He was alive. He was okay. She tried to smile, to reach out for him, but nothing happened. He was talking, she could see that but — but — if she died then that wouldn't mean he — baby — but — and —

Warmth enveloped her.

Her mind calmed. The searing pain disappeared and she realised her shirt was soaked with blood . . . and then it wasn't. Her vision calmed and her hearing returned. Leo must have been healing her. But as she gazed around the room, her powers of concentration returning, she saw Phoebe and Prue both leaning over her alongside Chris, but no Leo. . . .

And then she realised who was healing her. "Chris," she whispered. His hands lay on her chest, gold spreading out from them. He didn't have the power to heal, but —

"It worked," murmured Phoebe, and she let out a cry, clutching her mouth and smiling tearfully down at Piper. "You did it, Chris!"

"It worked . . ." he repeated, slowly pulling his hands away from her. Prue helped her sit up and she found herself facing her son, his expression unreadable. "I've — I've never done that before —" he told her, but she wasn't sure he was really speaking to her, despite how deeply he stared. He was as astounded at his own actions as they were.

"Thank you," she whispered, reaching a hand out to touch his cheek. He let her, and he raised his own hand to held it there.

"Paige," Phoebe murmured. "Chris, you need to heal —"

But there was no need for Chris to heal Paige, too. Leo finally arrived. "What's going on?" he demanded. "The other Elders wouldn't let me —" His eyes landed on Paige and he rushed towards her. Piper looked back at Chris, who hadn't moved from her. She knew he would at any moment, but. . . .

"I saved you," he said, and he spoke as if he couldn't possibly grasp the idea.

"Yeah, you did, kid," Prue said affectionately, almost proudly.

"I couldn't," he whispered, as if desperate to make her understand or even to make _himself_ understand. "Before . . . when you first — when you _died, _I couldn't — I couldn't stop it. I couldn't save you." His face contorted as he spoke to her, as though the very memory tortured him. "I tried — I tried _so_ hard — but I couldn't heal you. . . ." His voice trailed off. His eyes were still burning into her face.

And it seemed then as if the rest of the room faded away. Paige approaching them, newly healed, and Leo putting his hands to Phoebe's broken ankle, and Prue watching with a soft smile — it all disappeared. There was only Chris, and tears were gathering in his lashes.

He was crying. Her heart swelled.

"Before," he murmured, "before I couldn't . . . but now I've —"

"Now you've saved me," she whispered, and he slid forward and towards her, and the act was so natural that she didn't hesitate in wrapping her arms around him, feeling the press of his face and hot tears into her neck. "Shh," she murmured, rocking slightly, clutching him.

His arms tightened, and it was the first time he had ever shown her any real physical affection. "I love you," he whispered into her hair, "I tried so hard to save you but I couldn't and I'm so sorry, but I — I'm _so sorry. . . ._"

"It's okay," she whispered to him, "it's okay. You've saved me now. You've saved me." She ran a hand over through his hair, closing her eyes. "It's okay. You saved me."

_"_I — I — _I love you, Mom._"

And he clung to her, and finally, she could take care of her baby.

**To Be Continued . . . **

**

* * *

**

A/N: Yay for Chris admitting he loves his mommy! This chapter was a big step forward. It also leaves you with a THOUSAND questions, but a lot of them will be explained -- at least a little -- in the next chapter. Stay tuned! Also, this chapter introduced what will be Leo's chance for redemption -- at least in Chris's eyes and with their relationship. Candy for anyone who can guess what it is. . . . And for now, please leave me a review, the writer's drug :)


	19. Chapter 19

_A/N: I know, I know: I'm a completely horrible person, who many of you probably thought abandoned this story. But I did not! I have just been SUPER busy with real life, and I'm in the middle of a lot of stories for a lot of different genres. Occasionally, a story gots side-lined and negelcted for far too long. I'm so sorry! Hopefully that won't happen again to my beloved "A Company Man." The climax and conclusion are getting closer and closer, although there a still a handful of chapters to go (one more walk down memory land). I'm pretty excited for it all to come together, so I can guarantee that no matter how long it sometimes takes me to update, I will NOT abandon this story. As per usual, let me add that this is ENTIRELY AU after "Prince Charming." I may take elements from later parts of the sixth season, but nothing is guaranteed from that point on.  
_

_Also: I don't own Charmed! But if the true owners let me borrow Chris, I promise to return him in pristine condition ;) _

* * *

"Wow," said Paige, "he really _is_ emotionally stunted."

"Paige!" reprimanded Phoebe, while Piper sent her a withering glare.

"He's been through a lot," Leo said, leaning over Chris to heal him. "Whatever happened to him nearly killed him, and it's a miracle that he was able to get the strength not only to go to Piper but to heal her."

"I can't imagine healing for the first time is anything less than completely draining," Prue pointed out. Paige nodded.

"Yeah," she said, "but to faint?" At the look on Piper's face, she added, "Sorry! Sorry! No foul!"

It only took a moment for the golden glow of Leo's healing to flush colour back into Chris's face, and his eyes flickered open. Leo immediately put a hand behind his son's back, helping him to sit up. "What happened?" Chris frowned. His eyes immediately sought and found Piper, and Paige exchanged a small, delighted smile with Phoebe. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, smiling. "You healed me, remember?"

He started to nod, only for Paige to add, "And then you fainted."

"Remind me again the last time you healed somebody?" he asked as he pulled away from Leo and pushed himself to his feet.

"Touché," Paige replied, nodding her head in approval.

"So, before anything else happens, what's _already_ happened?" Phoebe asked. "Who took you? Where were you? What don't we know?" Chris sighed, but he didn't seem nearly as annoyed as he usually did when they started asking questions, and Phoebe couldn't help but wonder if everything was going to be different now that some sort of barrier between Chris and Piper had been torn down.

"Sigmund," Chris said.

"The assistant at Magic School?" Phoebe asked, frowning.

Chris nodded. "I don't know who attacked me a P3, but when I woke up I was in the underworld and Sigmund had me in a crystal cage. He kept on telling me that he wanted to know everything I knew about Wyatt's turning so that he could help the greater good. Then a demon showed up. I was fighting with him when all of a sudden. . . ."

"All of a sudden, what?" Leo prompted.

"All of a sudden, someone else arrived and . . . whoever it was, he was powerful. The last time I felt that much pain, it was Wyatt." His face darkened, and he crossed his arms over his chest. "It went black after that. The next time I was conscious, it was to find myself here."

"Wait," Paige said slowly, "you really mean Sigmund, the Magic School assistant? The squat, bald one with glasses?" Her scepticism was clear.

"Yes, Paige, I really mean Sigmund." He looked a little annoyed at her doubt, but he went on patiently. "If I had to guess, I'd say he was working for someone else. He didn't even seem certain he wanted to be doing what he was doing."

"He must have been," Leo replied. "Sigmund is a good man. I've known him for years. If someone could corrupt him. . . ." He didn't finish. It was quiet, and a thousand questions were swirling through the air.

"And where were you?" Prue asked suddenly, addressing Leo. "Did something happen?"

Leo frowned. "What do you mean?"

"We called for you but you didn't come right away. What happened?" She looked genuinely concerned, and Phoebe sighed. She knew it wasn't Leo's fault, but she doubted he had actually been _physically_ unable to come to them.

"I was with the other Elders," he said.

"Aren't you always?" Chris asked, and Phoebe felt her heart sink at the look on Chris's face.

"It wasn't like that. I didn't ignore the call and the Elders didn't stop me from answering. None of us heard it." Everyone stared, and Leo sighed. "We were in the . . . the Trial Room. Only a few Elders were absent, and one came to get me to say that the Charmed Ones were in trouble. I came as soon as he did."

"Wait, hold on, what is the . . . _Trial Room_?" Paige made a face.

Phoebe's eyes were trained on Chris, however, who now had a clearly _triumphant_ look on his face. "And how come we've never heard of it before?" Prue asked.

"The Trial Room is an ancient place, and it's rarely used any more. Several years ago — centuries, actually — there was a great battle between the Elders and forces beyond imagination. Many Elders and whitelighters joined with this other great power, and after the battle ended, those Elders and whitelighters were put on trial. In the end, all of them were recycled."

"Okay," said Piper. "But what does . . . ?"

"They did so in a room that voids all magic — even that of Elders and whitelighters. It's origin is so old, little is known of it. The Elders guard it, however, for such occasions as it was used centuries ago. But it's a dangerous place for Elders and whitelighters, because they can't hear the calls of witches and mortals."

"Wait," Prue said. "I remember reading about this when _I_ was still alive," Prue said. "It's the Magical Tribunal, right?"

"No," Chris said. "That's a whole different ball game. The Tribunal is about preventing magic's exposure and consists of Elders and demons working together. The Trial Room is used only by Elders and whitelighters in their own affairs."

"That's right," Leo said, looking a little surprised, and Phoebe couldn't help but wonder how it was possible that Chris always knew about _everything_.

"But why were you in this Trial Room?" Piper pressed. "If it hasn't been used for centuries, not since some big war, why the hell are you using it _now_?"

Leo sighed, and he seemed to age immeasurably in that instant. "The other Elders believe the great evil that arose all those years ago is rising again, and there's suspicion that some Elders have already joined this Gathering Storm."

"So you guys decided to all sit in a room without magic and talk it out?" Paige asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Ah . . . that's one way to put it, I guess." Leo shrugged. "A few Elders remained outside in case we were needed."

"And that worked oh-so well," Piper huffed. Leo cringed a little, guilt flooding from him, and Phoebe's sympathy rose for her brother-in-law. She looked at Chris again, and his triumph was barely restrained. Something was missing. He knew something they didn't.

And then her eyes caught on Prue, who was keenly watching Chris with a strange mixture of guilt and uncertainty flickering on her face. Whatever Chris knew that they didn't, Prue knew, too. Phoebe frowned, thinking.

"How do you know about the Trial Room?" she asked Chris, unintentionally silencing whatever Leo had been about to say next.

Chris looked surprised at the question. "I know all about the magical world," he replied easily.

"Have you ever been there?"

Suspicion flared in his eyes. "Yes," he answered curtly. Sudden tension flooded the room.

"What?" asked Leo. "When would you have been there?"

"Wyatt's taken me," Chris said, his voice tight. "But that's not important. Saving Wyatt is important. Let's focus on that."

"I second that," Paige nodded. "And we have something good to go on now: Sigmund is working for whoever is after Wyatt."

"He's been manipulated into thinking its for the greater good," Leo said. "Who would do that?"

"Why don't we ask him?" Prue suggested. "He shouldn't be that hard to find, right? And if anybody can get information out of him, it'll be us —"

"Sigmund is dead," Chris cut in.

"What?" Leo asked, wide-eyed.

"Whoever attacked me, whoever was manipulating Sigmund and using that demon, he came into the room, found me attacking that demon, and used his power on me. There's no way he let Sigmund leave, not once I'd escaped. And I'll bet anything he was the one that killed that demon, too. He's covering his traces."

"You weren't supposed to escape alive," Prue murmured.

"Nope," replied Chris. It was quiet.

"I should tell the other Elders," Leo finally said, clearing his throat. "They'll be able to use this information." Phoebe nodded, but she didn't take her eyes off Chris.

"And I guess I'll start dinner," Piper said. There was hope laced in her voice, and Phoebe knew a moment of truth was about to occur: would Chris finally stay for dinner, or had nothing really changed? "Chris," Piper went on timidly, "do you want to —?"

"You can't tell the Elders," Chris interrupted, focused on Leo.

Leo frowned. "Why not?"

"Because," Chris said, "one of them could have been the one to manipulate Sigmund. The same one who's working for this new evil power. What if it's all connected? You can't risk tipping anyone off."

"Chris, I really don't think —"

"The Elders are worried, aren't they?" Chris carried on, not relenting. "They know one of their own has turned. Why can't it be related to Wyatt?"

"Is it?' Phoebe asked. She was trying to gauge what was going on with Chris, what he knew and understand that the rest of them didn't. Thus far, it wasn't going very well. Chris glanced at her. "Is it connected to Wyatt? You're from the future. This whole great evil power — what do you know about it? Is it connected to Wyatt?"

"I — I don't think so," Chris said. "I didn't, at least. As far as I know, it doesn't come into play for a few more years. Not until after I'm born. But if an Elder has turned, then obviously he's no longer good, but he could well be deluded. And if he's deluded —"

"Then he could actually think he's doing right by killed Wyatt," Paige breathed, understanding in her eyes. "And he could delude Sigmund into thinking the same. It fits perfectly."

"I can't keep information like this from the other Elders," Leo said hesitantly.

"Yes, you can," Chris argued. "You have to. If you care about your family at all, you will."

Again, there was a thick, anxious silence.

"Okay," Leo whispered. "Okay. I won't tell them everything. I'll simply tell them a demon attacked." Phoebe could still see the conflict in his eyes, and she knew he didn't make this concession lightly.

"Thank you," Chris said coolly, already looking away from Leo. The older man sighed, his stress clear, and started to orb.

"Wait!" Prue stopped. "I have to say goodbye."

"What?" Phoebe asked, startled.

Prue gave a soft, sad smile. "I can't stay here any longer," she said softly. "I can feel the tug inside me, the pull to return where I belong. This isn't my place any more. It hasn't been for a long time."

"But — but I feel like you just got here," Phoebe protested.

"I can always come back," Prue said, "when you really need me. But it's time for me to go."

"It was good to see you," Leo said. "I'll miss you."

"You, too, little brother," she said, and she stepped forward to hug him.

"Little brother?' he repeated as they pulled apart. "I think I'm a little older than you."

"You married my little sister," she said, "which makes you my little brother." She spoke as if it were the most obvious logic in the whole world, and it made Phoebe's heartstrings tug at what reminded her so simply of her beloved older sister.

"Do you really have to go?" Phoebe asked. "Can't you stay for a little while longer? Or maybe for forever?"

Prue chuckled. "Sorry, Phoebe."

"I've got to go," Leo said, glancing up. "They want to know what's happened. But do you — do you need me to take you back?"

Prue's eyes widened. "I hadn't even thought of that. Of course!" She turned to the rest of the room. Paige stepped forward to hug her. "It was nice to meet you finally," she said, suddenly shy.

"You, too," Prue said.

Piper was next, and the hug lingered on well past a minute. Prue murmured something to Piper, and Phoebe could see the tears in Piper's eyes as she pulled away. "Don't stay away too long," Piper said, hastily wiping at her eyes.

"Don't worry," Prue replied, "I'll be keeping an eye on everything, ready to help you out of the next disaster." She grinned.

"We're not out of this one!" Phoebe protested.

Prue approached her, and before Phoebe knew what was happening, she was tightly clutching her sister. "This isn't my disaster to deal with. I've done everything I can," she murmured. "The rest is up to my fabulous sisters." Phoebe closed her eyes, pressing her face into Prue's hair. "It was Chris," Prue whispered suddenly, and Phoebe froze. "He told an Elder that another Elder had turned. And he had it on good authority: that demon Salome told him that it would be an Elder who turned Wyatt."

She pulled away before Phoebe could stop her. "Prue," Phoebe whispered, her mind spinning, trying to digest the words, trying to put all the puzzle pieces together.

"The rest is up to you," she said simply. Before Phoebe could respond, Prue had turned to Chris. "Do I get a hug?" She tiled her head. "Pretty please?"

And Chris stepped forward, embracing Prue. "Be good, kid," she said. "And I can't wait to meet you again and again in the future. Little you, of course, before you get so neurotic."

Chris snorted, grinning. "I have news for you: I've _always_ been neurotic. You know where I get it from?" Phoebe had never seen Chris tease someone before. At least, not that she could remember. Prue only scoffed.

"I'm not sure I like what you're inferring, buddy." She winked at him, and stepped back to hook her arm with Leo. "Don't have too much fun without me," she said. "And definitely don't forget about me."

"We could never," Piper whispered.

"I may have to return to the Trial Room," Leo said, breaking the soft spell that seemed to have overcome the room. "I'm sorry if I'll be out of range for a little while."

"It's okay," Phoebe assured, Paige nodding in confirmation. Leo glanced at Chris, but the boy was staring carelessly at nothing. Phoebe sighed.

Leo orbed with Prue. There was a lull in time, then, as if they were all digesting the fact that once again Prue Halliwell was gone from their lives.

"Well," Paige said slowly, "what now?"

There was a thousand questions to that answer. Prue had barely said anything to her, but what she had — Phoebe understood a hell of a lot more now, but she was also even more confused. And looking over at Chris, she suddenly realised how much he could still be manipulating them. After all, he wouldn't stop the moment they learned his true identity, would he?

"Dinner," Piper said. She was looking at Chris.

And he was looking at his feet. "Look, Piper," he said slowly. Phoebe cringed, and she didn't need to feel her sister's emotions to know the pain that Piper surely felt. Phoebe glanced at Paige, and the moment their eyes met, the same idea bounced between them.

"Dinner sounds great, Piper," Phoebe said, "but I should really check in at work. Give me a lift, Paige?" Paige nodded. Piper didn't respond, and the last thing Phoebe saw before Paige gripped her arm and orbed away was the sight of Piper looking determinedly at Chris.

They reappeared in a back alley close to Phoebe's office building, the usual place Paige dropped her off, just in case someone was in Phoebe's office. "I can't believe you really want to go to work after all this," Paige said.

"I can't lose the one semi-normal thing I have in my life," Phoebe replied. "Besides . . ."

"They need to talk," Paige nodded, understanding.

"And so do we," Phoebe said.

Paige frowned. "About what?"

"Chris . . . and what he's not telling us."

* * *

Chris couldn't meet her gaze.

It was burning into his face, but he simply couldn't bear to look into her eyes. He couldn't believe what had happened. He had finally healed. It was a power Wyatt had gained when he was sixteen years old, but Chris had begun to think he would never have it.

He did now, though, and he had used it to save his mother, and . . . "Chris," she said. "Look at me."

He raised his head. He swallowed thickly. He had saved her. When he returned to the future, she would still be apart of it. How different would his life be? He tried to imagine his mother being a part all the moments she had missed, and it seemed unfathomable.

"Why are you fighting me?" she asked softly. "Why can't you just admit that you belong in this family?"

Didn't she know that it wasn't about that? It was about the fact that he was playing a game that left no room for error. If he made one mistake, overlooked one simple fact, the whole house of cards he had carefully built, one that involved Salome and Angela and Leo and _everyone_, would come crashing down.

She took a hesitant step towards him. "Chris," she whispered.

He broke.

He was thirteen again, and she was the only person who really understood, the only person who never judged, who always cared, who could make him confess to everything and never made him doubt one single choice. "It took me so long to get over losing you," he whispered, his voice strained. "I can't just . . ."

She placed her hands on his face. He hadn't even realised she had gotten so close. Her eyes locked on his. "You won't. You've got me back, and I'm not going anywhere."

"This place is so different," he said, trying to make her understand. She only looked puzzled. "Phoebe is always around," he went on, not even sure what he was saying. She was so close and so warm and how was it possible that she smelled the way she had when he was growing up? "She's always asking me how I am and she . . . she's not supposed to ask so much and Paige . . . she's Penny. Everything she says and does and her jokes and she's _Penny_ and why isn't she in the future and . . . ?"

"This isn't the future, Chris," she told him. "They aren't the people you know them as. They're different. From what I can tell, they're better. For whatever reasons, they changed as the years passed. But you can prevent that. I think you already have." She smiled at him.

"Piper . . ." he said, trying to focus his attention.

"Call me Mom," she replied, the demand written on her face.

He tried to look away, but she wouldn't let him. "Why?" he asked angrily, attempting to alienate her. He glared into her eyes, but she surprised him: she didn't flinch.

"Because I said so," she said. The four words that were most beloved by mothers everywhere clutched at his heart. He smiled despite himself. He was in over his head, he knew that, and he wasn't about to let her or her sisters in on everything — he couldn't, really — but he wasn't alone anymore.

He had saved her, hadn't he?

He would never have to be without her again, would he?

"Okay," he said, "Mom."

She released him, beaming. "And now how about you help me with dinner?" He used to help her with dinner when she was still alive. The hesitance that had trapped him for so long reared up, and a voice whispered in his head that it wasn't a good idea. "Chris," she said sharply, as if she knew exactly what he was thinking.

"Mom," he echoed her tone. The grin she gave split her face, and he abruptly realised he had rarely joked with her before. And earlier, he had joked with Prue, too.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

He couldn't afford this. Yet the look on her face washed those thoughts away. "What are we having?" he asked, and he followed her out of the attic and down to the kitchen. She told him she was making steak and mashed potatoes. "You don't have to make those just because I like them," he said.

"I'm aware," she replied, "but I'm going to anyway."

He sat on a stool as she began to gather ingredients.

"So," she said slowly, "first kiss."

He frowned. "What?"

She wasn't looking at him, instead staring determinedly into the bowl she had just taken out of the cabinet. "When did you have your first kiss? Who is it with? How does it happen?" He couldn't form a response, too shocked, and after a moment she daringly looked up.

"That's what you choose to ask?" he questioned, trying not to smirk.

"I've just been wondering, is all," she defended. "Sheesh. No need to freak out."

He let his smile slip. "It's fine. But do you really want me to tell you? Wouldn't you rather you got to be surprised when it actually happened?" He wondered if his first kiss would be different were she to still be alive.

Everything would be different.

"You know, I think I do," she said thoughtfully. She smiled softly at him. "Here," she instructed, sliding a cutting board and a bag of carrots at him. "Cut those up, please." He only nodded. The next hour passed comfortably, their occasional talk light and easy.

Easy.

It wasn't that difficult talking to her, opening up to her, and —

"Do you still read comic books?" she asked.

"What?" he said, pausing in his duty of stirring the sauce.

The faintest tinge of pink danced up her neck. "Comic books," she repeated. "Do you still read them?"

He shrugged, a little puzzled. How did she know about that? "Not much. I don't have the time. How did you know that I ever did?" he asked.

"You told me," she said. He raised his eyebrows. Had he? "Preacher," she told him. "You said you liked the comic book series Preacher. Hold on a minute." He didn't quite know how to answer her, and he stayed silent as she hastily wiped her hands on her apron, and disappeared out of the room.

He remembered suddenly. That had been a good day, until suddenly it wasn't. That was how most happy things went for him. He frowned. He hadn't thought she would remember something like that. "Here," she said, and he glanced up to see she was back, and she clutched a comic book in her hand. "You can refresh your memory. You need to relax a little more."

It was the first in the Preacher series. "Where did you get that?" he asked.

"I was curious," she said. "I found it at that comic book store down the street from Phoebe's office." He stared. She hadn't only remembered, but had found the need to go out and purchase one of the comics?

He swallowed thickly.

It sounded like the sort of thing his mother would do.

"Chris?" she asked, and he could hear a tremor of doubt in her voice.

He took the comic from her. "Thanks," he said softly.

"Sure," she replied, smiling and returning to dinner. He looked down at the comic book. He glanced back up at her, leaning over the steak pan. "Pass me that seasoning," she requested. He picked up the small bottle of herbs she'd been using on the steak, and suddenly he was twelve again.

He had gotten home from skateboarding, was bragging about how well he'd done while she listened and nodded and smiled and asked for his help, and just when he thought she wasn't really listening, she would ask a question and give a proud smile, and he would —

He pressed the seasoning into her hand. "Thanks," she said.

Before he could lose his resolve — or regain his senses, really — he wrapped an arm around her in a loose hug and rested his chin on her shoulder. She was surprised, he could tell, but she didn't say a word. "Smells good, Mom," he murmured.

"For the record, Elise wants to kill me. Again!" Phoebe exclaimed. Chris pulled away from Piper as if she were on fire, and he refused to look at Phoebe. He didn't want to see what was surely in her gaze.

He was growing to hate what was always in Phoebe's gaze, the questions and concern and curiosity and analysis of his every word and movement and flickering facial expression. "Dinner's almost ready," Piper told Phoebe, and when Chris finally glanced up from the counter, it was to see Phoebe's eyes on Piper, _thank God._ Then her eyes turned back to him.

"I'm going to go clean up," he said abruptly, before she could get a word in. Piper looked at him with an open, curious face, her eyes raising on her forehead. "Dinner should be another fifteen or so minutes, right?" She nodded. "I'll be back then." He gave a tight smile and started to orb.

"Chris," she said, reaching out and grabbing his arm. He froze. "You will come back, won't you?" Her gaze bore into him. If he had any brains at all, he wouldn't.

But apparently he was brainless. "Yeah," he muttered, his face inadvertently softening, "I will." She beamed at his words and let him orb away. He sat down on his bed in the back room of P3, resting his head in his hands, his mind whirling backwards over the day.

_Be careful, little brother. Those who wear their hearts on their sleeves are always the easiest to kill._

"Shut-up, Wyatt," he muttered.

* * *

"So, Chris, what do you like to do?" Phoebe asked, taking a sip of wine. Piper nodded her head before looking eagerly at Chris. Leo only stared at his plate. The Elders had taken his lies without question, too concerned about the Growing Storm, and he had managed to get away from his Elderly duties to have dinner with his family.

After five minutes of the cold shoulder from Chris, and Leo rather wished the Elders had demanded he stay. Chris had barely said five words to anybody, and he wouldn't even acknowledge that Leo existed let alone that he sat across from Chris. Poor Piper was going spare at Chris's silence. Apparently he had been open with her earlier, and when Leo had arrived, his surly son had even been laughing with Paige and Piper.

It seemed Leo's arrival had put a damper on the mood. Leo silently cursed himself and his estranged son and how very simply _wrong_ everything was.

Chris looked up from his plate in confusion. "What?"

"What do you like to do?" Phoebe repeated. "You know — for . . . fun?"

"I — I —," he shrugged helplessly, shaking his head slightly. "I don't know." He looked back down at his plate and shoveled another forkful of mashed potatoes into his mouth. Phoebe shrugged her own shoulders at evidently having crashed and burned. Piper, her distress growing, turned to Paige.

"Ah, do you like sports?" Paige asked.

"Playing or watching?" Chris replied.

"Either," Paige offered, smiling.

"I was never very good at playing and I don't have time for watching," Chris told her dismissively. He didn't even bother looking up from his plate. Paige shook her head sadly at Piper, mouthing 'sorry' to her sister. Piper turned on Leo, her eyes widening as she implored him to do something.

He knew without a doubt it would be a waste of time for him to try.

But Piper would not let up, and whether it was the combination of her pleading eyes and the sharp kick to his calf she gave or his own timid but desperate want to reach out to Chris, he didn't know, but he gave in.

"What about baseball?" Leo asked, gripping his water glass tightly in his hand.

"I never really liked baseball," Chris answered. "That was more of yours and Wyatt's thing."

That effectively ended Leo's attempt to make conversation.

Phoebe, though, seemed to derive new energy. "So what _was_ your _thing_?" she questioned. "Did you have a favorite TV show or were you involved in any clubs or, I don't know, drama or something?"

Chris chuckled, looking at her and repeating, amused, "Drama? You mean like school plays?"

"I take it that's a no," said Paige, grinning slightly.

"Yeah," Chris said, smiling as he absentmindedly speared a green bean on his fork. "That's a no."

"So, then, what TV?" Phoebe asked again. "That's not such a horrible question, right?"

"I honestly didn't watch that much," he replied, "but I guess . . . _The Gate Keepers_ was pretty good. I usually caught that when it came on."

"I've never heard of that," Paige frowned.

"Probably because it's a show from the future," Piper told her, a slightly mocking note in her tone. Chris grinned at her.

"It's true," he said. "I didn't watch old television."

"Hey, there!" Paige protested. "I happen to love my TV shows! And they are not _old_."

"_Sex and the City_ will never be old," Phoebe agreed. "It's too much of a classic."

"God, I hated that!" Chris exclaimed. "Those women were all crazy."

"So you did watch _old_ shows," Paige exclaimed triumphantly.

"Nah, but Piper always had it on when I was little." It was quiet, but while Piper was smiling, Chris was staring at his plate as he shoved a slice of buttered carrot in his mouth. Leo wondered how much better the dinner would be going if he weren't there. It was killing him. All of this was killing him.

He knew it was weak of him, but he just couldn't take any more that night. He took one last sip of water, and then pushed back his seat. "Dinner was amazing, Piper, but I think I need to skip out early."

"I made peanut butter pie," Piper protested.

"Really?" Paige asked, her eyes lighting up. "You've never made that before. Sounds good." She licked her lips exaggeratedly. Phoebe rolled her eyes.

"It was Chris's suggestion," Piper said fondly.

"It's really good," Chris muttered into his plate. Piper reached out and squeezed his shoulder. He didn't flinch or pull away or glare or orb or react in _any_ way. Leo's heart squeezed.

Leo really was the problem.

"It does sound good," Leo said, nodding stiffly. "But I've really got to go. The Elders need me."

"We'll save you a slice," Phoebe promised. No one said anything else to him as he stood and left the room. When he glanced back at the doorway, Chris was laughing at something Paige said as her arms waved wildly through the air.

Leo orbed away.

He meant to go to the bridge.

When he found himself in Magic School, his eyes went wide. _What?_

"Ah, Leo," Gideon said, coming towards him with weary eyes. "I'm sorry to redirect your orb; I know it was rude of me. I need to talk to you, however, _alone_, and it cannot wait any longer."

"It's alright," Leo assured, a little worried. He had rarely seen that kind of distress on Gideon's face before. "What's the matter?"

Gideon sighed. "It's about Angela," he said. "Angela and . . . Chris."

**To Be Continued . . .**

* * *

A/N: Oh, Gideon, what are you up to? I'll try and update soon and let you all know! Until then, please review :) It may not seem like it would really have any effect, but sometimes a review will spur me to stay at the computer for more than moment, open up word, and actually work on the next chapter when I should be doing something else (like school work). Happy 2010!**  
**


	20. Chapter 20

_A/N: That was a little quicker than usual, right? As always: I own no rights to Charmed, and this is AU after "Prince Charming." This chapter starts off right where chapter 19 left off._

* * *

"What about them?" asked Leo, frowning slightly. His eyes widened. "Is Angela the Elder who's joined with the Gathering Storm?"

"I'm not sure any Elder has joined that great power," Gideon replied, going on gravely, "But there is certainly an Elder that turned against the rest of us, and it is Angela, yes." Leo felt his heart clutch. He had always liked Angela, had respected her and considered her a friend. To think that she would betray the cause of good in any capacity — it was beyond painful. He couldn't believe it.

"Are you sure?" Leo pressed.

"I'm afraid so."

Leo swallowed thickly, but before Gideon could go on, he asked sharply, his frown growing, "Wait, but what does that have to do with Chris?" Gideon's whole bearing seemed to grow heavy, and he reached his arm out and rested his hand comfortingly on Leo's shoulder.

"I'm sorry to say this, to believe this," he said, sad sincerity shining in his eyes, "but I have no choice."

"What?" Leo said, slight panic threatening to overtake him.

"It is Chris who turned Angela," Gideon said, "Chris who led her to stray from the right path."

Leo didn't understand. He shook his head. "What? No. Why — why would you ever think that? Has something happened?"

Gideon took his arm from Leo's shoulder, sighing deeply, as if every word out of his mouth was a burden to him. "It isn't a secret, Leo, that your son is no friend of the Elders. He makes his disdain clear at every opportunity."

"The Charmed Ones aren't the Elders' biggest supporters, either," Leo defended warily, not sure what was happening, what could _possibly_ be happening. Chris hadn't gotten himself into any trouble, had he? While the Charmed Ones and Leo were simply trying to reach out to him and relate to him, had he been secretly carrying on his own affairs?

"Unfortunately, that is true. Still, the Charmed Ones are loyal to our cause, to the powers of good."

Leo felt something stir in his chest. "So is Chris," he replied firmly. "Why are you being cryptic, Gideon? What are you trying to tell me?"

"We believe, Leo — the other Elders and myself — that Chris convinced Angela to conspire against us all. We believe it was his intention to return to the past not only to save his brother, but to destroy the Elders."

Leo could only stare. "No." He gasped, inarticulate. "No, that's not possible. I know my son."

"Do you?" Gideon countered, and Leo internally flinched. Did he know his son? _No. He won't let me know him_. "Leo, please, you must listen to me. You must not let your affection for him blind you."

"My affection for him?" Leo repeated. "He's my son, Gideon! Look, I know he doesn't have much respect for the Elders, but he would never try and destroy them — us. He's here to save Wyatt — to save his family!" Gideon had to believe him, he had to.

"Don't you see how very connected those two things are to Chris?" Gideon said, his tone imploring Leo to listen to reason. "Leo, why does Chris despise you?"

Leo frowned. What did that matter? "Because — because I wasn't around when he was growing up, because I neglected him," he said, trying to keep all his thoughts straight and clear.

"Yes," Gideon nodded, "and why weren't you around?" He didn't give Leo the chance to answer. "Because you are an Elder!" Gideon exclaimed. "Don't you see? Don't you understand? To Chris, the Elders are responsible for taking his father from him, for making his entire family suffer. And I cannot be sure, but it would seem he blames them for Wyatt turning, as well.

"He believes if the Elders had cared more, if _you_ had cared more, his brother would not have been turned. Chris sees neglect as the root of all his problems." Leo tried to process what Gideon was saying.

It all made sense.

Chris did hate Leo; he hated all the Elders. Leo could easily imagine his angry son blaming the Elders for what happened to Wyatt and to his family. He ran a hand through his hair, taking a deep breath. It all made sense . . . but he couldn't believe it. It was _Chris_. He might be angry and bitter and unforgiving, he might hate Leo and all the Elders, but he was _not_ working to decimate the Elders.

"If he wanted to see the end of the Elders, why did he help save you from the Titans when he first came from the future?" Leo asked. It was a valid question.

"I do not know," Gideon admitted. "But you have already told me your doubts of what Chris has told you concerning the future. Who knows what truths he manipulated in order to place himself in a place of trust and power here? Perhaps the Titans wouldn't have destroyed us without him; perhaps he was simply using the battle to his advantage. Whatever his reasoning, it is clear that he has turned on us now."

"How?" Leo demanded. If he had to believe this, he needed an explanation. But there couldn't possibly be an explanation. This was all a mistake. "How is it clear? Why do you think he's turned?"

"In the trial room," Gideon said, "Angela was forced to reveal everything. She broke down, realising her mistakes, and she explained it all. She told how she was summoned by Chris, how he began telling her of his suspicions, how he began feeding her lies of the future and — we were able to help her see reason, but Leo, we cannot —"

"How do you know she's not lying?"

"Leo," Gideon said. He paused, but Leo didn't let that stand.

"She could be!"

Gideon shook his head. "No. You know as well as I do that Angela is not one to lie. And do you really believe that she would have the ability when in a room of her peers, who have known her for decades if not centuries?"

Leo rubbed his forehead, trying to think. "This is got to be some sort of miscommunication," he insisted.

"Leo, I know this is hard for you," Gideon said. "I understand that it is hard for you to —"

"You don't!" Leo cut him off, barely able to contain the anger that had slowly been burning inside him and had finally surpassed the shock and confusion and worry. Gideon was startled into temporary silence, and Leo took the opportunity.

"You don't, Gideon. None of you do. I'm a _father._ Chris is my _son. _I want to do right, and I accepted the responsibilities of an Elder because it was what was right. But I still have a family. I still have a responsibility to them. And if you and the other Elders didn't realise that when you asked me to join you, then you have to understand it now."

"Perhaps it was you who didn't understand," Gideon replied softly.

Leo met his gaze. "Maybe." He could hear Piper in his voice, asking him why he _had_ to become an Elder, why he _had_ to leave them, his family, his sons, his _wife_.

Gideon took a deep breath. "I do realise the unique position you are in, Leo. But as of now, the other Elders and I have no choice but to recognise Chris as a threat to us, and we need you to —"

"No," said Leo.

"We are simply asking for your understanding," Gideon pushed on. "The other Elders intend to summon Chris to the trial room to talk. _Only_ to talk. If you are right — if this is, in fact, some sort of misunderstanding — then it will be revealed. I am telling you because I believe you ought to know, because I would like your support. Now is not the time for the Elders to be anything other than a completely united front."

Leo stared, letting the words wash over him. They only wanted to talk to Chris. And, Leo was sure, when they did, the truth would come out, and the truth would be that Chris was innocent of anything and everything the Elders were accusing him of. But for Leo to give his support? For Leo to agree to have his son taken to an ancient interrogation room and mercilessly questioned?

"I'm sorry, Gideon. I don't believe you. I _can't_ believe you."

"Leo —"

"I trust my son."

He orbed before Gideon could stop him.

* * *

She sat down at the table and stared until he couldn't ignore her gaze any longer and was forced to look up from his magazine or catalogue or whatever it was. She didn't really care. That's not what she had come for. "Is everything okay?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"It will be," she replied firmly.

"Okay." She continued to stare at him. His eyes darted to the living room where Paige was watching some trashy daytime television show. He met her gaze again. "Do you need my help with something?"

"Yes, actually, and it's only with your help that things will be okay."

She watched the wariness flicker to life in his face. It didn't matter. She knew his defences were capable of coming down, and she wasn't letting him leave the kitchen until she'd knocked down each stupid stone in the wall he'd built around his heart.

"I see," he said slowly. "And what is it you need my help with?"

"I want to talk to you."

He stared at her. "Seriously, Phoebe?" he finally asked, looking rather exasperated. Piper was at P3 for the rest of the afternoon, and Paige wasn't going to interrupt them. It was him and her only, at least until he finally filled in the blanks.

"We need to talk, Chris. We need to. I can't let you sideline the issue any longer."

"What issue?" he asked, and she winced a little at the mask that seemed to have settled firmly in place on his face.

"Your issue with me," she answered succinctly.

"I don't have an issue with you," he replied, not missing a beat.

"You do. When you came here, you had an issue with all of us. You had an issue with Paige being too wrapped up in her own magic to care about her family. But you learned that she wasn't like that, not yet; you learned she was better than that. You learned she was like your cousin, and you learned that she wouldn't become who you knew her to be."

"Phoebe —"

"Let me finish. You had an issue with Piper. You refused to get close to her because you didn't want to go through the pain of losing her again. But when you healed her that day, when you did what you couldn't do as a child, you realised that she really was _saved_. You realised that she wouldn't die and that you didn't have to fear openly loving her again."

He didn't say anything, but she knew she spoke the truth. She had seen how easily Chris conversed with Piper at dinner, and the sudden change would have been shocking if she hadn't analysed Chris so closely. He had slowly been opening to Paige and to Piper, and when he saved Piper's life, that was the final push. He could finally be open with them.

"But you still have an issue with me," she went on, "and neither of us are leaving this kitchen until we resolve it."

His face still giving away nothing, he asked calmly, "If you're so certain about all of this, then what, exactly, _is_ my issue with you?"

"You tell me," she replied.

"You're the one who says there's a problem. If you want to discuss it, you'll need to tell me what it is." She stared him down. He stared back. She bit back her frustration. She had to stay calm.

"Fine," she said. "I'll try guessing. It has to do with the fact that I was never around, doesn't it? That I never had time for you, even when you were grieving your mother. I was too concerned with my own children. Is that right?" The idea had been torturing her ever since she had seen her future self walk out on a broken Chris in that memory, and Chris's argument with her in the attic a few days before had only solidified the idea in her mind, making her feel worse still.

"You had time," he said. "That was never a problem."

"You're lying."

He threw his hands up in exasperation. "Come on, Phoebe! You really want to do this? Have a talk about some non-existant issue? You are aware that someone is still out to get Wyatt, right?"

"Just tell me what I have to do!" Phoebe insisted. "Tell me how I can make everything okay between us."

"Everything _is_ okay between us."

"It's not," she said, shaking her head.

He shrugged helplessly. "Well, I don't know what to tell you."

"Please, Chris," she implored softly. "_Please_."

He sighed. "Okay. You're right. You didn't have time for me. You were like everybody else. After my mom died, the only people who had time for me were Penny and Wyatt. Then Penny died and Wyatt was to blame and . . . you just weren't there."

He spoke without letting a single emotion flicker across his face, as if here were explaining some tid-bit about the magical world to her or directions to a restaurant. "There's more," she murmured. "There has to be."

He stood. "If you'd like to pretend there is, sure. Whatever. I don't have time for this."

"Chris!" He had already walked out of the room. Phoebe groaned, pressing her palms into her eye sockets for a moment, trying to keep from screaming in aggravation.

"I used to see kids like him all the time."

Phoebe looked up to see Paige leaning against the door frame, her eyes sympathetic as she gaze at Phoebe.

"What?" Phoebe asked.

"When I was still aspiring to be a social worker," she explained. "Kids like that — so unwillingly to open up — emotionally broken . . . it never get any easier dealing with them. I use to want to beat the shit out of the people who had made innocent kids like that."

"Yeah," Phoebe muttered. "Who'd have thought I'd be one of those people?"

"Aw, come on," Paige encouraged, "you know it wasn't all you. I'm pretty sure having a father who was never around, a family that died off one by one starting with your mother, and a brother who turned out to be an unimaginable force of evil probably did more damage than little old you." She raised her eyebrows at Phoebe, as if challenging her to disagree.

"I know," Phoebe said, "I do. But I just _hate_ that after all this time whatever wall was between him and you and him and Piper has been broken down but he still treats me with this — this _detachment." _She looked at her little sister sheepishly. "I guess I'm jealous of you and Piper."

"You shouldn't be," Paige said. "He's been through a lot. Just give it time."

Phoebe shook her head. "It's going to take more than that, I know it. Maybe with you all it took was time — time to realise that you weren't the same person he knew and that maybe you wouldn't become that person. But I can't shake the feeling that there's more to the story where I'm involved."

Paige frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Like — there's some specific reason he doesn't like me or trust me or . . . I don't know." She sighed again, her shoulders sinking. "Honestly? I've kind of been wishing for the impossible lately."

"Which is?" Paige prompted.

"That we could use the _To Heal a Heart_ spell again," Phoebe admitted.

"Ah, yes, but I can guarantee you Chris will kill us all before we can get anywhere close to the inside of his head again," Paige replied. "If you did manage to make it into his memories, afterwards would be a nice example of the classic one step forward, three hundred and eight steps backward."

"Sadly, I know," Phoebe pouted.

Paige patted her on the shoulder. "I guess you'll just have to fix things the old fashioned way."

"The old fashioned way?"

"I meant the non-magical way. That's all I've got. You're the advice columnist." Paige shrugged.

"Don't remind me. It looks like the one person I can't give advice to is _myself_."

* * *

She needed to mind her own fucking business, instead of prying into his.

He had come to dinner last night, he had relaxed around his moms and aunts, and the next day he'd been lounging around the house as if it were his own — just the way they wanted him to act — and this was how he was repaid: Phoebe pestering him.

What did she expect? That he would burst into tears and tell the sad, sad tale of his life? Who the hell did she think she was? She might be San Francisco's favourite advice columnist, but that didn't give her the right to act all holier-than-thou and insist he tell her all his deep, dark secrets.

Because she did _not_ know what she was asking.

His mind flashed to a bloody boy and a screaming woman and the feel of Wyatt's hand on his shoulder, defensive, protective, reminding Chris that he wasn't alone. It was all so fucked up. Sometimes, in moments of weakness, Chris forgot who the real bad guy was.

Because Wyatt might be a murdering bastard, but when Chris remembered moments like that, when he remembered how Wyatt was his big brother who _never_ failed to stand up for Chris, always Chris, _only_ Chris, it didn't seem so black and white.

And then he remembered Penny, broken and dying in his arms, and he remembered that even big brothers could be evil, and that was that. Chris grit his teeth. A part of him wanted to be angry at Piper for making him come to dinner and at himself for being too weak to say no, but he couldn't help himself: it was his _mom_, for Christ's sake. Couldn't Phoebe recognise that his relationship with her was bound to be different than his with Piper?

Chris came to a halt.

He had walked all the way there, _here_, to the place he both loved and hated more than anywhere else in the world. It was his sanctuary and his hell, it was the place in the future that Bianca would admit she loved him and it was the place where she found him and revealed that she was evil once more.

Chris sank onto one of the benches. He needed to get his head on straight. Focus.

He had to talk to Angela, to find out what she'd discovered. He knew it was an Elder who went after Wyatt, and it was time real action was taken. Surely Angela would have something to report by that point — after all, the Elders were meeting in the trial room. That could only mean good things for Chris. They knew they had a betrayer in their midst. Angela was stirring up trouble.

The evil one was bound to get nervous, to slip up and reveal himself before long. Chris just had to be there to catch it. So what was the next move? Even as the thought formed in his mind, a swirl of orbs appeared before him.

It took Chris a moment to recognise the tall, thin man who stood before him in Elder robes. "Augustus," he greeted grimly, standing and trying to determine what the man must want.

"Chris," the Elder nodded. They had met a handful of times before, all during the fight with the Titans and the time immediately following, when Leo had become an Elder and Chris the Charmed Ones' new whitelighter.

"What can I do for you?" Chris asked. Augustus clearly wanted something, and Chris felt his guard rise even further. He didn't like the way the man was looking at him, and Wyatt began whispering in Chris's ear —that was never a good sign.

"You can come with me," Augustus answered quietly. Chris frowned. "The other Elders and I would like to speak with you."

"About?"

"It is a matter of grave importance, and it cannot be avoided any longer."

"That wasn't an answer," Chris said sharply, repeating, "What is it about?"

"That's not for me to say. Please, come with me now."

Chris crossed his arms over his chest, making his stance firm as he levelled his gaze with the older man. "No. What's going on?"

"Do not let your position as a whitelighter to the Charmed Ones blind you to the simple fact that you, as a whitelighter to _anyone_, are subordinate to the Elders," Augustus said firmly, his eyes flashing. "You are in _our_ employ, Chris Perry. We request your presence; it is futile to resist. It shall be, whether or not you are so inclined."

Chris hated how fucking calm the Elder was. In fact, he was pretty sure at that moment he hated all things calm.

"I may be in your _employ_," Chris spat, "but my loyalty lies with the Charmed Ones, and you can't change that. I know what _shall be_. I'm from the future, remember?" He sneered. "If you want something from me, say it. What do the high and mighty Elders need to discuss with me?"

Augustus sighed. "I had hoped we would not need to resort to this."

Chris couldn't even think of a retort before orbs filled the air, and Chris found himself in a circle of Elders, some he knew, some he merely recognised, and some he had never met at all. They all looked grim as they faced him, and panic rose in a wave within him. He didn't let it show.

Angela was not among them. He silently cursed. Things were going very, very wrong, very, very quickly. He had to get away, and he would figure out what had happened — what _was_ happening — when he was far from anyone in golden robes.

_Elders' weakness is their belief in their own superiority_, Wyatt murmured. _They don't like dirty tricks, little brother. They see such as beneath them. It was easy to destroy them knowing that. Always know an enemy's weakness, and the kill is simple._

"Coercion? Really?" Chris asked, his tone demeaning. "If I resist, do you recycle me, is that it?" He was buying time; he knew it and they did, too. But it didn't matter. If he got the time he needed, he could figure out a way out of this. _Dirty tricks, little brother._

"Do not take this situation lightly, whitelighter," said a younger Elder.

"We recycled Angela, Chris," said another stranger.

Chris inadvertently tensed. _Shit. Shitshitshit. Mother fucking _—

"It was for the best," said Augustus, "even she agreed. It was after she revealed the truth." There was a pause as his words hung in the air, and Chris could almost predict what he would say next. "We know everything."

"Everything, huh?" Chris replied. He sneered. "I doubt it."

One of the Elders raised his arms, and Chris dug his feet into the ground, ready to fight tooth and nail, even if it were a losing battle. He wasn't Wyatt, and he didn't have a legion of demons behind him. He couldn't defeat the Elders that easily.

They all began walking forward, walking towards him, trapping him in a circle that grew smaller and smaller. If he weren't in trouble, he would laugh at their method. He tried to send one flying, but his magic was deflected with in an instant. His landed on Gideon, and he tried to go after him next, but it was to no avail.

A hand closed over his shoulder and a bolt ran down his body, freezing his limbs, sticking him in limbo as he was caught in someone else's orb. He had never much minded orbing, but in the few seconds it took to travel piggyback with another Elder, Chris was in agony.

It ended abruptly. He felt whatever held him suddenly let go, and he stumbled to the ground. The Elders still stood in a circle around him, in the exact same circle, as if someone had simply painted a new background on the scene.

It was a background he recognised. He scrambled to his feet, his eyes raking over the walls that rose and rose and disappeared into darkness, the marble floor shrouded in a foot of mist that swirled around his legs, and the thick, cold air of the large hall. It was empty of anything or anyone but himself and fifteen Elders, and he knew it wouldn't be long before more arrived.

He was in the trial room.

_Shit_.

"This room, Christopher Perry, is more ancient than either you or I," said Augustus, who was apparently the leader of the whose fiasco. "It is legendary, a place where truth reigns and magic can protect no one."

"I know what the trial room is," he spat furiously. He had to contain himself. The only way he was going to get out of this was by playing them, was by sweet-talking them, and as loathe as he was to do that, it was his all he had. He forced his face and voice to stay firm and steady and as emotionless as Elders all loved to be. "I've been here before."

There surprise was clear, and he held back a sneer of triumph. "When?" asked Gideon.

"I can't tell you," he answered. "It was in the future, and I can't risk the consequences."

"It seems you do not understand the situation in which you find yourself," said a young, slim Elder with bright red hair. Chris vaguely recalled Wyatt killing her in a blaze of lightening. _Doesn't seem so evil now, does it, little brother? You'd kill her now too, if you could._

"Maybe you could explain it to me," he replied.

Before anyone could answer him, the air seemed to rumble, and an another Elder appeared, stalking towards them, wearing jeans and an old sweater rather than golden robes, his face anything but calm. "Stop," he demanded, "stop this! You're making a mistake."

"Leo," Gideon murmured, disappointment thick in his voice.

"I don't know what Angela told you, but he has not done anything to deserve this!" Leo insisted, his eyes bouncing from Elder to Elder.

"Calm yourself, Leo," said one of the Elders. "We mean only to talk to him."

"And then recycle him," Leo said, his face blazing in a way Chris had never seen it before. "Admit it! You've decided, even without talking to him, that he ought to be recycled — that whether or not he's as guilty as you all assume him to be, it's best for him to be recycled."

Chris's hands fisted.

"Yes," said Augustus. "It is for the best."

"No," Leo argued, shaking his head. "No. I won't let you."

"It is not your decision to make, I'm afraid," said the red-haired Elder.

"I'm an Elder, too!"

"Then it is time you act as one!" Augustus exclaimed. "You are one of us, and now that we have reached a decision, you must stand by us. Not all decisions are agreed upon by every one of our number, and not all are perfect solutions, but we do what we _must _do."

"Chris," Leo began, although his eyes were on the other Elders, rather than Chris, "you've been here before, haven't you?"

"Yes," Chris answered, trying to gauge what would happen next.

"Good," Leo replied. There was a tremble in his voice as his hand reached into his pocket.

"Leo," Gideon said slowly, suspicion shining in his eyes. He took a cautious step forward.

And Leo tossed something in the air, something that fizzled and snapped and let all hell loose.

A smoke bomb. Leo had just thrown a _smoke_ _bomb_ in an ancient trial room full of Elders.

Chris could barely process the action as he heard Leo shout, "_Run!"_ and Chris understood that he was meant to escape while he had the chance, that Leo was counting on Chris knowing the exit as he had been there before. Leo hadn't miscalculated.

Apparently there were more smoke bombs, and what would seem to be firecrackers, too, and the air was clouded with smoke and dust and the frantic shouts of Elders. Chris ran forward, wishing he could someone see through it all, kicking someone who grabbed his leg, his heart thudding against his chest, his mind unable to accept the absurdity of it all.

Someone grabbed his shoulders.

The sound of bones cracking reverberated in Chris's ear. The hands released him. "Let's go," Leo breathed, and they both ran towards the end of the hall, towards the door that would appear only when they reached it. They were almost there when suddenly August was in their path, his face visible even through the smoke.

Chris started to launch himself at the Elder. But Leo got there first. Both the men, Elders, supreme beings, tumbled to the ground, fighting tooth and nail without possessing any magic. Other Elders began stumbling through the smoke towards them, and soon Chris was fighting them.

It was easier than it would have been with magic — Elders weren't exactly trained in martial arts — but it was only a matter of time before Chris found himself struck — it was two against fifteen — and he sunk to the ground, his head spinning, and hands gripping him, dragging him as he coughed smoke. The next thing he knew, his whole body was seizing and panic overtook him as he felt his magic being tugged from him in the most painful, lurching way, as though it were literally being _tugged _—

And then there were hands clutching his shoulders painfully tight, and he was being orbed.

He blacked out.

* * *

_A/N: Ta-da! Exciting, right? I re-wrote that last section a good five times, so I hope you like the final result! I know this leaves a lot of questions (besides the obvious what the hell happened and where the hell did Leo get a smoke bomb?) but it will all be explained, I promise! I'm really excited about what's happening and is about to happen, so hopefully updates will come more quickly from here on out! Please review! Also, you can thank sunsetdreamer for the timeliness of this update! ;)_


	21. Chapter 21

_A/N: And yet again you had to wait forever for an update. This is a pretty long chapter, though, so that might help make up for it :) This is the start of the end, and there are only a few chapters left, so at the very least you can take solace in the fact that there can't possibly be too many long waits to go! Hopefully, however, there won't be any more long waits. I want to try and finish the story in the next month or so. In case you've forgotten in the EONS since I last updated: this is completely AU after "Prince Charming" (although I maintain the right to take whatever elements I want from canon!) and I own no rights to Charmed. _

_

* * *

_Someone muttered something.

He bit back a groan. His head was heavy, and it felt as if his eyes were sunk into his face. As consciousness crept over him, he noticed the pain in his shoulder and in his leg, and he wondered how hurt he was. He couldn't afford to keep getting injured. What had happened?

He blinked his eyes open and saw a cavern roof. He recognised it. Well, at least he was safe, if nothing else. He was sure Arthur would be standing over him at any moment asking for details about what had happened and telling Chris to take it easy and not to move too fast. But Chris didn't have time to sit around on his ass.

He flexed his leg. It wasn't broken.

"Hey, you awake?"

Chris sat up so fast that his head spun. It was Leo. His memory rushed back to him. He was in the past. He had some how ended up in the cavern that he would later establish as the Resistance headquarters. He tried to remember what had happened. His head still pounded slightly.

"Chris," Leo said, "are you okay? We need to get to the sisters, but I thought we should talk first here. No one can find us here. This is one of a handful of spots in North America that's hidden from the view of Elders and demons alike."

Chris didn't answer. He had been taken to the trial room by the Elders and they had been interrogating him but then Leo had arrived and pulled out a _smoke bomb _—

"Chris," Leo said, "talk to me. Are you okay?" His face was earnest and worried. Chris clenched his fists and forced himself to his feet.

He ran a hand through his hair. "Where did you get a smoke bomb?" he asked.

"Oh — I —" Leo looked slightly abashed. He gave half a smile. ""It wasn't that hard to find. The local fireworks place had them." He paused. "Back in my earlier days as a whitelighter, before your mom was born, I . . . I didn't always do things the — the traditional way. I mean, it was the seventies, you know? But it worked thirty something years ago, so I thought . . . I mean, it worked, didn't it?" He shrugged.

"Yeah," Chris said, nodding vaguely, "I guess it did." He was still trying to process everything. he couldn't believe it was _Leo_ of all people who had stormed into the trial room and saved him. "So, but . . . what happened? We were in the trial room, we were running to the exit, and then all of a sudden — what?"

"Gideon," Leo said, his voice taking on a darker tone. "He tried to . . . I stopped him. I grabbed you and I dragged you out and orbed you here, but you were out for hours." Chris frowned. It all sounded exactly like when Wyatt had him in the trial room and lost his temper and would have taken Chris's life along with his magic if Bianca hadn't intervened. It had been only weeks before he'd returned to the past, weeks that were then spent with Wyatt chasing them, furious that Bianca had turned and joined Chris and the Resistance.

"Chris, you can't use magic in the trial room," Leo explained. "However, the trial room largely fell out of use not only because there were fewer occasions that called for it, but because Elders who had a certain level of power and desperation could use magic if they took it from someone else. Gideon started to steal your magic, Chris, probably in an attempt to weaken you. If I hadn't stopped him, it could have killed —"

"I know how it works," Chris interrupted. "It's happened before." Leo frowned. "And it hurt worse when Wyatt did it," Chris added, just to spite Leo, who's eyes went wide at the words. It was quiet for a moment, and Chris tried to determine what his next move should be. Obviously, his plan to force the hand of whichever Elder was turned had backfired.

A shiver of guilt ran up his spine as he thought of Angela. He had no great love for Elders, that was for sure, but Angela had been one of the better ones. As far as Elders went, she was . . . she was okay. And he had probably gotten her killed. It would all make sense, really. Whoever was smart enough to take out Wyatt, probably with the idea that he was doing good by eliminating a witch who would later decimate Elders and take over the fucking world, was also smart enough to know when he was being smoked out.

And he had somehow turned the tables on Angela and on Chris, too.

"Chris," Leo said. "I know this is a lot to take in, but I . . . I tried to stop them. Gideon came to me and told me they were planning on talking to you because of what Angela had told them, but I — I — he wouldn't listen to me. I did the only thing I could think of. But I promise we're going to get this all worked out, okay?"

Chris looked over at him. A part of him was still in shock over what had happened. Everything was spinning out of control, and here was Leo, telling Chris it would all be okay. It was like some wacky dream.

_It's a fucking joke_, Chris thought suddenly. The last time he had felt truly grounded, had felt as if everything would be okay because he wasn't alone and he had someone looking out for him despite all odds, well, he had been a teenager, and the person looking out for him had been Wyatt. And Wyatt _definitely_ hadn't kept his promises to Chris.

"And if they vote you off the island for this?" Chris spat. "How will you serve the greater good?"

"To serve the greater good," Leo replied, "you have to be selfless." He paused. "You have to be willing to sacrifice everything — your friends and your interests and your — your family and your life and . . . I'm starting to think that's not a sacrifice I can make." He stared at Chris, as if imploring him to understand. "I guess I'm not selfless, not anymore, not since the day I fell in love with a charge."

No. Leo couldn't be serious. Did he honestly think he could leave behind the Elders? They were his life, no matter how much he liked to whine that it wasn't his choice, it was his destiny. "So how long will this kick last?" Chris asked. "I mean, if I remember the logic right, aren't you helping your family by helping the greater good?"

Leo sighed again. He looked slightly annoyed. Chris was somehow gratified by that. "Right now, I don't care so much about the logic. I can't be an Elder right now, not when I need to help you and Wyatt. I don't know what's going to happen when all of this is over, but I'm through letting my family suffer."

He said it so firmly that Chris almost believed him.

"So," Leo said, clearing his throat. "We need a plan, right?"

"Right," Chris said. "Obviously, it's an Elder who goes after Wyatt. And he knows that I know, and he's trying to get rid of me." Leo nodded. But he looked slightly hesitant, and a chord of anger tightened suddenly inside of Chris. "Don't try and deny that it's an Elder," he said. "This proves it."

"This proves that the Elders have been led astray," Leo began slowly.

"Oh, come on!" Chris exclaimed. "That lasted, what — five seconds? For _five seconds_ you were loyal to your family over a bunch of bathrobe wearing know-it-alls!"

"Not wanting to believe that protectors of all that is good in the world have turned evil does not mean I am not loyal to my family, Chris," Leo said, his eyes flashing. "I know you want to paint all Elders as evil, and I realise that it's my fault, but they're _not_ all evil. And you don't want them to be."

Chris tried to bite back his frustration. He certainly wasn't about to admit that he knew Leo was right. "Look, do you or do you not think that an Elder has turned?"

"I think . . . I think this certainly seems like it." He sighed heavily. Did he think they could save Wyatt by heaving sighs every other minute?

"Yes, it definitely _seems_ like it," Chris spat. He had a feeling the whole world would be better off if someone banged Leo's head against a wall a few times.

"Chris, you have to understand that it — it's not easy to accept that someone I trust isn't who I think he or she is. These people are another kind of family to me, and many of them guided me when I was a whitelighter and supported me when I wanted to marry Piper and welcomed me openly when I became an Elder and . . . it's not easy, thinking that someone you love has betrayed you. So could you cut me some slack?"

Chris swallowed thickly. "I know," he murmured. "I know it's not easy."

Leo met his gaze, and Chris saw the understanding dawn in him. But he didn't want to talk about Wyatt with Leo. He never had and he never would. Leo might have saved his ass in the trial room, but it was too little, too late, and he had more important things to focus on.

"Can you just — just give me a little credit?" Leo asked, a kind of plea to his voice. "I'm trying. Isn't that worth something?" Chris stared at him. His mind flashed over all the moments Leo had said that he was trying, that he was trying to be a father and he was trying to do what was best for his family and for Chris and he was _trying_, and wasn't that enough?

"Something," Chris repeated slowly. "Isn't it worth something? Okay. Sure. I'll give you something." He nodded. "I've never liked you. It's not a secret."

"Chris —"

"And you know why I've never liked you? It's because you've never liked me. There it is, _Dad_. There's your something."

"That's not true," Leo said. "You're my son. I love you. There is nothing that could ever change that." Chris laughed, and he felt as if he were facing off with Wyatt and everything out of the other man's mouth was just so fucking _wrong_.

But at least Wyatt wasn't a liar or a fool.

"Valoc," Chris said. Leo frowned, but Chris didn't give him a chance to say anything. "He had legions of demons under him, hundreds of the worst sort of the underworld, and he was slaughtering innocents in a play to take over the underworld. Nobody could stop him. Your new charge — Sarah, her name was Sarah. Valoc killed her sister, and she was hysterical. She went after him. She got into all sorts of trouble. But you helped her. You guided her, and she — she actually defeated Valoc. It was a feat not matched by anyone but the Charmed Ones."

He paused. He didn't remember any of this, of course. But he had been told the story a thousand times. "They wanted to make you an Elder," he went on. "You had a gift, and it was your path, they said. You had a wife and two sons, but you could still be a part of their life, and this was your destiny." He hated destiny. "But you didn't become an Elder. They changed their minds. Of course, they changed their minds again a year later and made you an Elder, but do you know why they _retracted_ their first offer?"

"Chris —**"**

"Do you have any idea? After you had basically _saved the world_, what could you possibly do that would make them re-eveualte?" He paused. "They gave you a choice, actually. They said you had to show you could play by the rules. But you failed their little test. Do you know why?"

Leo shook his head.

Chris smiled, aware that it was nothing close to an actual smile. "Because I was sick. I had a mass in my abdomen. Cancer." Leo's expression slackened in surprise. "And you healed me. Piper made you. But it wasn't a magical ailment, was it?" He let the words sink in. "I mean, that's gotta suck for you, right? You planned Wyatt. You wanted Wyatt. You tried and tried for Wyatt. But then I came along, a complete mess up, and I'm not even three when I start screwing with your life."

"Chris," Leo murmured, stepping towards him.

"Hey," Chris said, shrugging his shoulders and wishing he hadn't even started talking. "I don't blame you. I would hate me, too, if I were you." He glared at this man, his _father_, and he wished Leo wasn't trying to be something he wasn't. He might have saved Chris from the trial room, he might have defied his beloved Elders and broken the rules and helped Chris, but a leopard doesn't change its spots.

Wyatt was a bastard, but at least he didn't try to pretend otherwise.

"I'm sorry," Leo said softly.

Chris scoffed. "For what?"

"For all the ways I've let you down," he replied.

Chris hated the word sorry. But what was the point of this conversation? They were wasting time. "We have to find out which Elder has turned," he said. Leo looked away. "We find it out, we prove it, and Wyatt is saved, and the Elders forgive you, and I can go back to the future."

Leo nodded, a kind of resolve on face. "Right." He rolled his shoulders, as if in some sort of preperation. "Where do we start?"

"Back at the beginning," Chris said. He didn't really have a choice. They weren't going to circle it any longer; they weren't going to play games or work with tid-bits and little hints and clues. "It's time we pay Salome another visit."

* * *

When Chris orbed into the room, Phoebe was lighting a few scented candles in hopes that the lavender scent would help her relax. She was so startled she nearly lit her hand on fire. "Chris! You scared —"

"Where's Paige?" he demanded.

She frowned, her eyes bouncing over his torn, singed shirt and slightly bruised arm. "She's downstairs," Phoebe began. "But what happened?"

Chris orbed away. The sound of voices carried from downstairs. Worry growing in her, she blew out the one candle she had managed to light and started towards the stairs. Chris orbed suddenly in front of her, a hand on Paige's arm. "Dude, slow down," said Paige. "Why are the _Elders_ after us?"

He didn't answer. "We have to move fast," Chris told her. "Let's go." He reached for Phoebe.

"Go where?" she asked.

His hand gripped her shoulder painfully tight, and the familiar sensation of orbing overcame her. When she was on solid ground again, Chris released her immediately. She was in some sort of underground cavern. That did _not _bode well. "Okay, you need to give us the 411, like, _now_," Paige said.

There was another orb, and a moment later Piper and Leo appeared in the room. Piper looked over at Phoebe and their mutual confusion was clear. "Where are we?" Phoebe asked, not sure whether to address Leo or Chris. Since when did the two of them work together?

"We're somewhere safe," Chris said.

"What's going on?" Piper asked. "What's happened?"

"Whoever turns Wyatt," Chris went on, "is an Elder."

"No way," said Paige, shaking her head. Piper only stared. Phoebe looked at Leo. She had known Chris suspected this, but did Leo, too? As little affection as she had for Elders, Phoebe had to admit that she had trouble imagining them as _evil_.

"It makes sense, really," Leo said calmly. "They can't see into the future, but often they have other ways of knowing what is to come. One of them must have discovered what Wyatt would become and is now attempting to prevent it by killing him."

"But I thought this was about someone _turning_ Wyatt evil?" Paige asked.

"The crime reporter," Piper murmured, looking at Phoebe.

She nodded. "Remember how I talked to him at the paper?" she asked Paige. "And he told me about the serial killer who was abused by his kidnapper as a kid?"

"Okay," Paige said slowly, "let me get this straight. An Elder, in an attempt to save the world from the evil Wyatt will become, is trying to kill him, and it's going to backfire and he's going to abuse Wyatt long enough for it to turn him evil. Is that right?"

"Looks like it," Leo said softly. Chris said nothing, but his mouth was a thin, drawn line, and the tension was rolling off him in waves.

"But what are we doing down here?" Paige asked. "Chris said we had to come here because the Elders wouldn't be able to find us, but why are the Elders trying to find us? I mean, it's just one, right? Do you know who it is?"

"We don't know who it is," said Chris sharply. "That's the problem. I was trying to flush him out, but it didn't work. Whoever it is managed to turn all the Elders against me, and they would have recycled me if Leo hadn't stopped them."

"So you guys are . . . on the run now?" Paige asked. "Like fugitives?" She grinned. Chris did not look nearly as amused.

"Something like that," Leo replied.

"And what's the plan?" asked Piper.

"We talk to Salome," said Chris. "We finally get the truth out of her — the whole truth. If we know which Elder it is, then we can find proof and we can protect Wyatt, and then it'll all finally be over." It was silent for a moment, as if the words were washing over them.

"But will she know?" Phoebe asked. "I mean, I thought she wasn't able to see the exact future because it was too complicated?"

"She knows," Chris said grimly. "Maybe she couldn't see it at first, but now that it's about to happen — now that it could happen at any moment — she can see it. That's how her powers work. The sooner the event, the more clearly she can see it. A little while ago she finally saw that it was an Elder, and there's a good chance that she's now seen _which_ Elder it is."

"Can we make her talk?" Piper asked.

"Yes," Chris replied. His tone left no room for argument.

"But we're going to find her," Leo added. "Together. We're all in this together, and we're finishing it together." His gaze was on Chris, but the surly boy said nothing. Phoebe was a little curious how Leo had stopped him from running off on his own, but she was grateful he had. For whatever reason, Chris finally seemed ready to let Leo help, and now they were _all_ about to help.

"Now?" Phoebe said.

"No," Chris said. "I was thinking next Wednesday. Would that work for you? Maybe at two in the afternoon? Or would some other time be better?"

"Okay, then," Paige said, "now it is."

Piper stepped a few feet forward and placed a hand on Chris. His posture remained stiff. "I'm guessing you know where to find her?"

Chris nodded.

"You go first," Leo said. "Take Piper. I'll sense you and follow after with Phoebe and Paige."

Chris didn't respond. He only orbed away. Phoebe felt the usual rush of oncoming battle swim through her veins, but it was nothing new. They could do this. Leo placed a hand on her shoulder and she was swallowed by orbs for the second time that day.

Leo brought them to the same dilapidated apartment they had first met Salome in. Salome sat calmly on the one piece of furniture, the worse for wear couch, and she looked a little smug as her eyes darted from Chris and Piper to Phoebe, Paige, and Leo. "Well," she said, "you really all came. I hardly believed it when I foresaw it. After all, I thought you were a _lone wolf_." She looked at Chris.

"If you saw us coming, then you saw why," Chris replied, his voice clipped. "Give us the name."

"That's now how it works, darling," Salome rasped, and Phoebe kind of wanted to kick box that self-satisfied smirk off the demonic witch's face. Okay, not kind of — she really, really wanted to. "You have to give me something, too."

"What do you want?" Chris asked.

Salome tapped her chin thoughtfully. "I want to see your future," she said. "Uninterrupted, all access . . . and in exchange, I'll give you a name. Everybody wins."

"Why do you care about his future?" Leo asked.

"Because, _Daddy_, it touches with mine, and there are a few . . . questions I'd like the answers to. So, Christopher, what do you say? Let me look into your head for a few minutes, and I'll give you the ticket to saving Big Brother."

"No," Chris said.

"No?" Salome repeated, raising an eyebrow. "What are you going to do? Threaten to kill me?" Her eyes flashed. "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I'm afraid you don't stand a chance with tricking me a second time, which means you'll never get close enough to kill me, and you _know_ it." She raised her chin, as if daring him to argue. "The only way you're getting what you want out of me is if you give me what _I_ want. So . . . perhaps you need a moment to think on it?"

"Chris," Leo began, "maybe it wouldn't be so bad—"

"The last time you saw me working with Salome, you orbed me to the underworld and tried to beat the shit out of me," Chris snapped. "Why the sudden change?" He was glaring daggers, but it was at Salome rather than Leo, and Phoebe was pretty sure it was a toss up who Chris hated more.

"Just a _few_ minutes," Salome said. "How bad can it possibly be?" She tilted her head at him, and Phoebe though the witch was somehow even more repulsive.

"I have another idea," Paige suggested brightly. "How about you tell us who's after Wyatt and in exchange I'll buy you some shampoo? Maybe something fruity? You seem like a fruity person." Phoebe bit back a snort, and even Chris grinned a little.

"I hope the mental institution doesn't drain you of your humour, Paige," Salome spat.

"Don't sweat it," Paige replied sweetly.

"If I let you into my head," Chris began slowly.

"Chris," Piper immediately said, looking alarmed.

He ignored her. "If I let you into my head, then it's only fair you let me into yours." When Salome said nothing, Chris went on. "You see what you want from me, no exceptions, no secrets, no half truths. And then I see what I want from you, and it'll be the whole truth and only the truth. You know what that would mean?" He crossed his arms over his chest. "Everybody wins."

Phoebe had to admit: Chris was good. But to let Salome into his head?

"Why?" she asked him. "Why can't I simply tell you what I know? Don't you trust me?" She gave a menacing grin.

"No," Chris said, "I don't. I know how you like to play games. So if you want to look into my head, then I'll look into yours." His face was set in stone.

"And how is it you plan on entering my mind?" Salome asked.

"A spell," he answered.

"Wait — the _To Heal a Heart_ spell?" Phoebe asked.

Chris nodded.

"But —" Phoebe glanced at Piper and saw her sister looked equally concerned, but neither Paige nor Leo showed any doubt. Seriously? This was the plan?

Salome stared at Chris. There seemed to be a silent battle of wills between them. "Fine," Salome finally said. "Fine. But I go first."

"Okay," agreed Chris. Salome stood.

"Chris," Piper said, stepping towards him. "Let's slow down for a minute."

"I know what I'm doing," Chris said. "I promise." He glanced at her, and Phoebe couldn't see what passed between them, but Piper nodded slowly. Chris turned back to Salome.

"If you try to back out of your half of the deal," Leo started. "We'll —"

"Hush, Elder," Salome interrupted. "I might not be a good witch, but I'm don't back out on my word. Isn't that right, Chris?"

Chris said nothing and Salome smiled, her scarred face growing momentarily more disfigured with the movement. Salome stepped towards Chris and curled her long fingers around his shoulders. Her nails were long and painted a deep red. They pressed into Chris's t-shirt as her gaze locked into his, her face only a few inches from his.

Phoebe still wasn't sure about this. Before she could say anything, however, Salome's eyes began glowing a brilliant green.

"Holy shit," Paige muttered.

"Don't worry," Piper said softly. "It's how her magic works." But despite her assurances, Piper didn't look any less worried than Paige. And Phoebe could feel the worry emanating from Leo. It tripled when Chris's eyes began glowing green, too. Salome's scarred hands tightened on Chris's shoulders, but as silent magic connected the two, no other movement was made.

Phoebe wasn't sure how much time passed, but her eyes never left Chris and Salome. It could have been seconds, minutes, maybe even half an hour before suddenly the green was gone, Salome was stepping back, and Chris was blinking as if to clear away sleepiness.

Salome's lips were pursued. "Did you get what you want?" Chris asked. He didn't look much as if he cared.

"Why?" Salome asked. "I don't understand _why_." Phoebe could see the intertwining confusion and distress on her face. If she weren't Satanic, Phoebe might feel bad for her.

Chris shrugged. "That's not my problem. You should sit down. The spell will knock you out."

"No, you'll answer me why first," Salome said. "_Why_?"

"That wasn't part of the deal."

"I'm amending the deal," she said. They glared at one another.

"Ah, you can't do that," Paige said. "That's not how it works. Just 'cause you didn't find what you wanted in Chris's head, doesn't mean you can demand more."

Salome acted as if she hadn't heard. "I'll let you into my head," Salome hissed at Chris, "I'll let you all in. You can spend hours in there for all I fucking care. Just tell me _why_!"

Chris let out a dry, humourless laugh, glancing off for a moment before returning his solid gaze to her. "I can't tell you," he said. "Because I don't know. But if I had to guess? It's impossible not to. He's addictive. He's persuasive. He can make himself into your best friend, your closest advocate, your _world_. And for whatever reason, he reeled you in. You, Salome Wentworth, _fell in love with a witch_." He spoke with a kind of sick relish.

Salome's lip curled, and she looked almost feral. "And even when he kills my father —"

"Even," Chris said. "You had passed the point of no return by then, anyway."

"And the child? Why did he want me to kill it?"

"Because when he wants to have a kid, he'll do it on his own terms. It's always on his terms. If it's not, he makes it. He'll stop or punish or torture or kill anyone in order to." Chris spoke clinically, as if explaining some sort of magical technicality to Salome, but Phoebe could barely breathe.

This witch with demon blood, this awful creature that had killed her own sisters, would fall in love with Wyatt and when he got her pregnant, he would have her kill the child. And she would . . . because she loved him, even after he killed her father. Phoebe could hardly process it. It was all so . . . _wrong_.

"Anything else?" Chris said.

"No." It was quiet. "I suppose this is to my advantage," she finally went on, sitting down on the couch with some measure of grace. "If you manage to save your precious brother, then I won't ever have anything to do with him." Her eye glinted in a dangerous way.

"Let's hope so," Piper interjected. Salome sent her a withering glare.

"Do you know the spell?" Chris asked Piper.

"I'm pretty sure we've all get it memorised now," Phoebe said, even as Piper nodded.

"Do we get to come?" asked Paige.

"We're coming," said Phoebe.

"We have to," said Leo.

Chris looked annoyed. "Whatever. Come. I don't care. How do we do it?"

Paige linked her arms through Leo and Phoebe, and Phoebe reached forward and took Piper's hand, as her sister placed an arm around Chris. _"Here our words, here our plea,"_ Phoebe and Paige began, and Piper joined in after a moment, though her eyes did not leave Chris. He stood silently, holding Salome's hard gaze. _"Across the sky, across the sea."_

"Have fun," Salome said, curling back her lips to show her pointed, yellow teeth.

_"Reveal to us what must be known, To understand thoughts all her own!"_

A precarious moment of complete still and silence reigned, and then a sudden storm of wind deafened them, and dotted colours were blurring together and smearing their vision, and Phoebe's stomach was left behind as they were propelled into a black oblivion.

When it all stopped, Phoebe found she had been knocked off her feet, as per usual. They all had been, and they were in the familiar darkness of a quiet mind. But she somehow felt on edge, as if Salome's mind would try to play a trick on them. Leo helped her to her feet.

"Does my head look like this?' Chris asked, glancing around the unending darkness that surrounded them.

"Black, black, and black, with a little black to the left and all blackness above and below and, oh yes, a touch of black over there?" Paige asked, tilting her head at him. "Yes, this is about the same as the inside of your skull." Paige smiled, but Phoebe could see the tension behind her bright eyes.

"So how do we . . . find something out?" Chris asked.

"This spell is meant to allow someone to see another's memories," Leo explained. "It clears the person's mind completely by putting them into a dreamless sleep and then the spell caster can call up whatever memories he or she wishes. I'm assuming that you want to look at the future moments Salome has seen, which to her would be categorised as memories?"

Chris nodded curtly. "And how do we do that?" he asked, his teeth gritted.

"It isn't difficult," Phoebe said. It was not a good time for Leo and Chris to start fighting. "All we do is think _and_ shout exactly what we want to see. So — think about Wyatt being turned and shout his name, and hopefully it'll come up right away." No one said anything. "Okay, um, Wyatt! WYATT!"

She thought about the little precious baby she knew and loved, and she thought about the terrifying man he would become, the one who tortured her niece and would kill her children, and she shouted again, "WYATT!" She thought about how he became the way he did and who did it to him.

"WYATT!" Paige and Piper shouted. Leo joined in. Chris didn't, not before there was music playing, a slow, soul wrenching version of Amazing Grace.

"What's that?" Chris asked sharply.

"It's starting," Leo murmured.

The blackness above them gave way to a gray sky, and suddenly, like someone had switched a flip, they were standing in a graveyard, and Phoebe was staring straight at her future self, dressed in black, her eyes bloodshot. They were at a funeral.

Her eyes ran over everything — older Phoebe stood beside a tall man she didn't recognise, and her chest caught a little at what it could mean. Paige was there, too, and Phoebe thought she saw who must be Penny, but the girl looked as if she herself were dead. Piper wasn't there. Leo wasn't there. And then Phoebe saw Chris . . . and Wyatt.

"He's not a baby," Piper breathed. "This isn't what we want. Why do we never get to see what we want on the first try?" Her eyes were trained on her sons.

"What is this?" Paige asked Chris.

"This is . . . this is Patty's funeral."

Phoebe looked at Penny. Patty was her little sister, right? Which meant that this was only days before she would die. And even as Phoebe thought it, Penny looked at Wyatt. Her deadened eyes bored into him. He glanced away from the grave and the small man beside it who had begun to speak, and met Penny's gaze.

And he smiled.

Phoebe looked at her future self, at future Paige, and was shocked to see that neither noticed. No one was paying attention. And, his eyes trained on Penny, Wyatt reached forward and wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulders.

The graveyard tinted green suddenly and smeared away, and suddenly Wyatt was throwing fireballs, his eyes blazing, and he was perhaps a year or two younger. Demons were exploding left and right. "What's going?" Chris demanded.

"I don't know," Paige said.

"This isn't normal — this has never happened," Piper said.

Suddenly Wyatt stopped, and he stood breathing heavily, the underworld a backdrop behind him, and his eyes trained on the one remaining demon, who lay panting on his hands and knees. He glanced up. It was Amaymon, the demon who would kill Piper. Wyatt raised his hands.

Green tinted the scene. It smeared. Future Piper was taking inventory in P3. It was a quiet, mundane moment. Then a demon shimmered into the room. It was Amaymon. His eyes were trained on Piper. It all happened so quickly Phoebe could barely utter a gasp of surpise. The next thing she knew, Piper was gasping, clutching her bleeding stomach.

The door to the club opened, and a young Chris stepped forward. "Hey Mom," he called. He started down the stairs only to freeze. "MOM!" His eyes flew to Amaymon.

"Sorry, kid," the demon breathed, giving a petrifying smile and shimmering away.

Chris raced down the stairs. "Mom, oh, God, Mom," he said, falling down beside her.

"Hey, baby," future Piper said. "Hey, it's okay. I —" She couldn't finish.

Chris had started crying. "It's gonna be okay, Mom, I promise. Leo! LEO! DAD!"

The picture went green and seemed to start over. Piper stood taking inventory in a quiet, empty P3. The door to the club opened. Chris called out, "Hey Mom." Piper glanced up and smiled at him. He headed down the stairs towards her.

"It worked," Chris breathed.

Phoebe glanced away from the scene to look at Chris. "What worked?" asked Leo.

Staring at his future self, Chris said, "Don't you get it? Salome's seen two futures — she's seen the future I know, when my mom dies, and she's seen this new future. . . ." His voice trailed off. Future Piper was handing her son a can of Pepsi.

"You changed the future," Piper whispered. "You saved my life. And Salome saw that."

The words had barely left her mind when the green tint came yet again, and the scene smeared, and suddenly the memories came flying, one after another. They were random moments, and they would last only a few seconds before they would glow green and transform into something else. Phoebe caught glimpses of herself, she caught glimpses of a young Wyatt talking with demons, and she saw Paige shouting and then Piper clutching Wyatt and Chris to her, both still toddlers.

"These aren't normal memories," Leo said slowly, "so the spell doesn't work the same. These are scenes Salome has seen. There are different versions and . . . it's different."

"But eventually it'll show us the scene we want, right?" Piper asked.

"It better," Chris murmured, staring at Penny dancing across the kitchen of the Manor with a wooden spoon held to her lips like a microphone as she crooned, grinning like an idiot, like a perfectly happy thirteen-year-old girl. The kitchen turned green.

A little boy was running through the woods, his brown hair falling into his face, his eyes terrorised. He was wearing muddy jeans and a backpack, and he couldn't be more than ten or eleven. He kept on glancing over his shoulder, and he started to cry when he tripped. Chris was staring at him with clenched fists.

"You know who that is, don't you?" Phoebe asked him.

He didn't take his eyes off the boy. "That's your son," he said. "Cooper. And he's about to die."

Phoebe's breath caught in her chest. She looked at the boy, at Cooper, and she didn't know what to say or do or think but — but it wasn't as if it would make a difference. She was going to watch her future son die. But then the scene went green. It ended, and Phoebe felt Paige's comforting hand on her shoulder.

The next scene to appear was Chris, maybe fifteen, sitting on a bench. He was across from Phoebe's old elementary school. He looked bored. He glanced at his watch. He pulled out his cell phone. He pressed a number on speed dial. "Hey Pen, it's me," he said. He stood. "I'm gonna be late. I told Aunt Phoebe I'd pick Coop up from school 'cause she couldn't come on time, but I'm beginning to think she must have just picked him up early." He paused, and Penny must have been speaking. "Yeah, right, the day she trusts her kids with anyone other than herself will be the day green grass grows in hell. I know, you've said it before." He rolled his eyes. "I'll be there soon."

He flipped the phone shut. He turned green.

And little Cooper was running through the woods again.

It was all happening so fast; it had barely been a minute since her son first appeared, but Phoebe felt as if she were watching a lifetime pass. Cooper tripped again. He scrambled to his feet and froze. Wyatt stood calmly in front of him, dressed casually in jeans and a t-shirt with some team logo on it. Cooper gasped a sigh of relief.

"Wyatt," he said, "somebody's trying to kill me! This lady picked me up from school early even though Mom said Chris was gonna pick me up and —"

"Shh," Wyatt interrupted, holding his finger to his mouth.

Phoebe felt as if she were watching it in slow motion. A demon shimmered behind Cooper. Three more followed. Cooper spun around, almost tripping again, and it was just in time for four fireballs to hit him. He flew backwards, and Wyatt stepped calmly out of the way.

Phoebe clutched her hand to her mouth, her tears spilling over her fingers. Paige was holding her tightly now, as if to keep her standing up right.

The scene turned green. Future Phoebe was sobbing. A man, his own eyes glassy with tears, was trying to soothe Phoebe, but it wasn't working. Paige was pacing the room, wringing her hands, and Chris and Wyatt stood silently against the far wall.

The center of the scene was the bloody, broken, burnt boy who lay on the couch with a golden robed, grey haired Leo sitting beside him, his hands glowing. He stopped. Cooper lay motionless, his childish face clearly pale with death. "I'm sorry," Leo murmured. "There's nothing I can do."

"No," Phoebe said, "No! You fix him! You heal him! Heal him now, Leo, _now!_"

Leo shook his head, glancing at Paige as if for help. "Honey," future Paige said gently, "he was already dead when we found him. There was never anything Leo could do for him."

"No," Phoebe said, shaking her head. "No! Heal him! I _know_ you can. HEAL HIM!" She was sobbing and shaking as Leo reached a hand forward and closed Cooper's glassy eyes. Phoebe sunk down to the ground hysterically.

"We'll find out who did it," Paige said. "We'll find out which demon did this, and we'll make him pay, Phoebe, I swear."

Future Phoebe quieted slightly. She looked up, and her eyes darted to Chris. She stared at him for a moment. "This is your fault," she breathed.

"Phoebe," Leo said.

"No! This is your fault! I didn't even think to look for my son until seven because he was supposed be with _you!_ How could you let this happen?" She struggled to her feet, and she shoved her husband away — _it must be my husband_, Phoebe thought as she watched in growing horror — and screamed at Chris, who was pale, his eyes wide. He was nothing more than a child himself.

Wyatt stepped in front of Chris. "He didn't do anything. It's not his fault. It's not any of our faults. It's a demon. Was it your fault Aunt Prue died?"

"Wyatt," future Paige murmured, frowning and shaking her head.

But Wyatt didn't heed her. "If Dad hadn't been in the underworld trying to save you from your demonic boyfriend, then he would have been in time to save her. Does that mean that it's your fault?"

Phoebe had stopped speaking, and she had nearly collapsed on her son, still crying. "Don't listen to her, little brother," Wyatt said. "It's not your fault."

The scene tinted green.

Phoebe couldn't stop crying, not even when her dead son and future self had disappeared from view. She looked over at Chris, but he was staring unseeingly at the next scene that was appearing, and he seemed as unaware of Piper's arm around him as Phoebe was of Paige's arm around her.

More scenes flashed by. There were quick, random moments that showed an evil Wyatt and the Halliwell family. There were strange scenes featuring people Phoebe didn't recognise. Sometimes the same scene would play over three or four times with a different ending. Sometimes Piper would be in the scenes and Chris would choke on his breath a little, and Phoebe knew that in his world, Piper had been dead by then.

Phoebe saw Bianca. She saw her future son before he died. She saw Chris holding a dying Penny. She saw a little girl reading _Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince_ before suddenly being flung across the kitchen like a rag doll. Her book lay abandoned, and the little girl stared into nothing, dead. She saw a graveyard. She saw a funeral. She saw another funeral.

She saw Wyatt torturing Chris. She saw the two brothers, grown, fighting. _"You killed her! You killed Penny!_" She saw Salome kissing Wyatt. She saw buildings on fire. She saw little Wyatt sitting and laughing on Leo's shoulders. She saw little Chris watching _Bambi_ from Piper's lap. She saw Paige in the mental institution. She saw Chris skateboarding. She saw Wyatt killing off Elders like bugs under his foot.

She saw Wyatt choking Chris. _"Don't make me kill you, little brother_._"_ She saw Chris slipping on sunglasses and jumping into a portal to travel to the past. She saw a blurred, unpredictable, terrifying future, and it all glinted green. Some moments were a handful of seconds, some were five or ten minutes.

And then the attic of the Manor appeared, and Chris stood flipping through the Book with magic. He looked much the same as he did in the present. He glanced across the attic to where baby Wyatt sat in a playpen.

"Oh, God," Piper whispered.

Phoebe felt an understanding brimming over the edge of her mind, but she wasn't sure. . . . .

"This is it," Leo said. "This is —

Shining purple orbs appeared and before they were even fully materialised into a person, Chris was falling to the ground, curling around the knife that had been thrown into his stomach. Wyatt started wailing. The orbs solidified and there was an Elder stalking towards Wyatt with a grim face.

"No," Leo breathed.

It was Gideon.

**To Be Continued . . .**

A/N: And they finally know! Yay! I know I said there would be another walk down memory lane . . . I just never said in whose head it would be! The next chapter will see the repair of another relationship, but that's all I'm saying! On a different note -- I was thinking of writing a one or two shot that shows Chris's life in the dark!future . . . would you all be interested? I mapped it all out for this story (I have a timeline oriented around Chris's age) so it might be fun to put it to good use.

Okay, here's me complaining a little. I've had a few reviews that are upset about typos. This story is unbeta'd -- it's going to have typos. I try my hardest to find them, but I don't always, and when I notice them later, it's VERY hard to fix them. Why, you ask? Well, those of you who write your own stories know that this site has a complicated way of posting stories. For those who don't, let me clarify. Instead of simply, you know, posting the story, you have to upload a document and then attach it to a story. This means that to edit a chapter, I need to edit the document and then "replace" the chapter with the edited version. It becomes even more difficult when the document "expires" on ffnet, so I have to reload the whole document and then reattach it to the story. It takes a long time . . . and I would rather spend what time I have that isn't consumed by RL writing the next chapter rather than fixing a typo in chapter seven that apparently made it INSANELY hard for someone to read. I'm sorry. If I've written something that really makes no sense, then yes, I'll try and find the time to go back and fix it, but otherwise . . . um, just suck it up, pretty please?

Rant over. After that fabulousness . . . Please review?


	22. Chapter 22

_A/N: That was a much, MUCH faster update, right? I should definitely be studying for exams right now, but I had to get this finished and posted. It's kind of taken over my life the last few days. This is a big chapter plot wise (probably the biggest) and I'd consider it the climax. I hope it doesn't disappoint! (And if you don't have one beside you now, I'd grab a box of tissues if I were you.) Standard disclaimer: I make no profit from this and I own no rights to Charmed whatsoever. And because I just can't help myself: this is AU after "Prince Charming." There are some quoted moments in this chapter, some from earlier in the story and some from the show. I hope it reminds you of some good episodes :)_

* * *

Piper couldn't breath.

Everything inside her was screaming to stop him, to run forward and to blow Gideon to pieces, but she couldn't. This was a memory. But it wasn't. This hadn't happened yet. She could still stop it. _They _could still stop it. And they would.

Wyatt's force field expanded around him. Gideon's face rippled with frustration. "You can only protect yourself for so long, Wyatt," he said. His hands rose, and Piper tasted salt on her lips even as she watched Gideon try to counteract her baby son's magic.

And then Gideon stumbled to the ground. Chris had crawled to him, had dragged him down. A moment later, however, Chris flew backwards, a sickening crack echoing through the room when his back hit the far wall. He sank to the ground. His entire shirt was darkened with blood and it trickled out of his mouth. A knife was still buried in his stomach. Gideon rose to his feet with fiery eyes.

He stalked towards Chris, who was taking ragged breaths. "No," Piper whispered. She tightened her grip on the Chris who stood beside her, alive and unharmed and watching this very same scene play out.

"Why must you make me do this?" Gideon asked. "You should not have returned to the past. You should not try to protect him. If anyone knows of the evil he will command, it is you. Yet you try to shield him and now I have to dispose of you as well."

"Bastard," Paige whispered. Piper barely heard her.

Chris looked up at Gideon. There was something in his face. It was clear he wanted to say something. "You," he gasped. He choked. Gideon did nothing. He watched. His face was unreadable. "You — you can't win," he whispered. His eyes had gone a little glazed.

"This is not about winning, Chris. This is about the greater good. You must understand. I am truly sorry for this. But you have given me no alternative. Don't you see how foolish you were to return to the past? You are not as powerful as the Charmed Ones. You are not as powerful as Wyatt. You are not as powerful as _me_. You do not know what it is to possess such power and you can not resist it." He paused. "I wish you had not forced my hand."

"Good," Chris said, "good always wins. They'll — they'll — they'll always be . . . someone . . . to . . . fight . . . you . . . no . . . no — no — m — matter . . . ."

Piper couldn't watch it. She spun away from the scene, slamming her eyes shut, but she was too late. She saw it. She saw him die. She clutched the living version to her. She wouldn't let it happen. She wouldn't. She _wouldn't_.

Piper never did see the end of the scene. She heard orbs. She heard Gideon curse. She heard more orbs. But when she pulled away from Chris finally, the scene was already smearing. It didn't tint green. A new scene didn't arise. They weren't returned to darkness. Instead, colours streaked, and they were all abruptly, ungracefully dropped back into Salome's decrepit apartment.

"So," Salome said conversationally, "see anything interesting?"

No one answered her. It took a few minutes, but Piper managed to get her act together. They didn't have time to cry. They had to stop that from happening. They knew who it was, they knew Gideon, the bastard son of Satan, was to blame, and Piper would personally tear him apart. She wiped the last of the tears from her eyes and looked to see that both Phoebe and Piper were doing the same.

Chris's face, though, was stony.

"We won't let it happen," Phoebe told him. She tried to smile. She failed dismally.

Then Paige threw herself at Chris. "It's gonna be okay, I swear," she promised. When she pulled back, she wrapped an arm around Piper's shoulder. Chris only nodded, saying nothing.

"I can't believe this," Leo murmured. "I can't believe he would . . . " He shook his head.

"Believe it," Chris snapped.

Salome snorted. "You two never give it a rest, huh?" She looked smug again.

Piper glared at her, and before anyone could stop her, she tried to explode Salome. Unfortunately, it didn't kill the vapid _creature_, but it knocked the couch, and Salome on it, backwards, and all traces of self-satisfaction were gone when Salome stood again, steam about to pour out of her ears. "Say one more word," Piper threatened.

"Save it," Salome rasped. "I'm not the one who kills your son."

"No one is killing our son," Leo said. "We're going to stop him."

"We are," Piper agreed. She looked at Chris. They all did.

"What's the plan?" Phoebe asked. She glanced at Piper and Paige, then looked back at Chris.

"Where do we even start?" Phoebe said.

"We start," Chris replied, his face grim, "at the beginning."

* * *

"Chris! CHRIS!"

He sighed. This was _not_ the time to have this conversation, to have the conversation he was sure she wanted to have. He turned around. "What?" Piper and Leo had already left. Paige was intently looking at the wall, as if she found it absolutely fascniating. She was probably trying to give Phoebe and Chris a chance to talk. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. There wasn't time to_ talk_.

"Wait just a minute," she said. "Are you sure about this? What if something goes wrong? What if they try to recycle Leo?"

"Then cross your fingers they manage it," Chris said, crossing his arms over his chest. Phoebe looked shocked. He huffed. _For the love of God_, he thought. "I'm kidding, Phoebe," he said. "I don't actually _want_ Leo to get recycled."

"But what if —?"

"Do you have a better plan?" he interrupted. Couldn't they just this once do what he wanted and it would all finally be over? As powerful as the Charmed Ones might be, this wasn't their forte. This was, however, the sort of stuff in which Chris was an expert. This was the kind of battle Chris had fought before.

"No," Phoebe said. She sighed. "I'm sorry. I'm just so . . . this is all a lot to handle, right?" She smiled tiredly.

Chris nodded. He hoped that was all she wanted. But it wasn't. _Of course not._

"That was it, wasn't it?" she asked softly.

"What was what?"

"The reason why you won't let me in," she said. "It's because I . . . I blamed you for my son dying." She almost seemed to cringe a little as she spoke. She felt bad. That wasn't news. She had felt bad afterward in the future, too, and who could blame her for being upset that her son had died? It didn't matter. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I can't believe I would ever —"

"Look, now really isn't the time to talk about this," he said. "We can talk later." He turned to leave.

"Chris —"

"Phoebe," he said, spinning around, "maybe the reason I won't _let you in_ is because you keep trying to break in with a sledgehammer, and it's _annoying_." He glared at her, waiting for her to back off.

"Chris, _listen to me_." She reached forward faster than he could step back, and she gripped his arms. "I'm sorry, okay? I don't know how I become that person. I don't _want_ to become that person. But I — my whole life I've always had this selfish streak in me, and I'm so obsessed with having that picture perfect family with a husband and kids and — and — but _you're_ my family, too."

"Phoebe, it's okay," he insisted. "We've had this conversation before." They had things to do. Didn't she get that?

"Chris, _I'm sorry_. I — I know that this doesn't mean anything to you, and I know it doesn't erase the way I looked at you in that memory, and I know all you're thinking about right now is how I just won't let it go, but I have to say this, and I'll _keep_ saying it, because I'm _sorry_, Chris. I'm sorry that I become someone who picks and chooses which family to love. I'm sorry I'm not there for you when you lose everybody. I'm sorry I become someone I'm ashamed of.

"I'm so _sorry_, Chris. I've done so many stupid things in my life. I was a stupid teenage who treated my grandmother like she didn't matter. I ran away from my sisters and only ever talked to Piper when I needed someone. I was selfish and it was always all about _me_. And I hate that I become that person again, and I hate that you have to suffer because of it, and I'm so — so — _sorry_. I never meant to hurt you. It kills me that I did."

She was crying. She was crying because of him, because of what she had done to him.

Someone was finally crying for _him._

Before he knew what he was doing, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him. She seemed small in his embrace. He had never considered Phoebe as small. She had always seemed so unbreakable to him. Feeling silly suddenly, he pulled away. He couldn't look at her. "Thank you," he murmured.

"Thank you?" she repeated, a quiver in her voice.

"Thank you," he said. "You finally made it . . . made it mean something. It never has before." He looked at her, and he could see it, could see the apology in her eyes, and it did something to him, something he couldn't explain.

She frowned. "What?" she asked.

"Sorry," he said. "You really mean it." He glanced away. "So thanks."

Her face softened. "Okay. Good." She reached up and tucked his hair behind his ear. She reminded him of his mother in that moment. But she didn't try to hug him again. He was glad. He couldn't deal with any more of this, not now. It was quiet. "I guess I should . . . go. I mean we have to. . . ."

"Yeah." He nodded.

"Be safe," she murmured.

He walked away before he could do anything stupid. She didn't try to stop him. He couldn't believe this. It was the first time anybody had ever cried for him, the first time anybody had ever made it mean something when she said sorry, and it was the first time he could ever remember thinking that Phoebe . . . that she _did_ know him and how he felt. He almost wanted to laugh about it all. He could never have imagined that any of this, with Paige and with Piper and with Phoebe, would happen when he jumped into a portal to the past. How could he have? But it had all happened.

He kept expecting to wake up and find himself right back in the hellish world he knew.

He shook his head. He couldn't think about that now.

He knew his way around this entire maze of caverns so well; it had been the closest thing he had to a home for years. He had barely turned the corner before he heard the sound of orbs. Paige and Phoebe had left. All the pieces were falling into place now.

Wyatt was with Sheila and Darryl, as he had been most of the time lately. No Elder, Gideon included, would ever go after Wyatt when he was being watched by innocents. They wouldn't have to take care of him for too much longer, however. It was time to take a stand, and Sheila and Darryl didn't need to be involved.

He needed to get Wyatt and bring him here. He would be safest here. But he had to be careful, because if the Elders wouldn't listen to Leo and the sisters or if they got a hold of Chris or. . . . He needed the _Book_, too. He ought to try to get a hold of it after he picked up Wyatt. Things always went better when he had the _Book_. But he couldn't do anything yet.

Chris leaned back against the wall.

There was a good chance he was going to die. He had even _watched_ himself die.

He started to laugh, and then he bit down on his lip to keep the laughter from turning into tears, and he braced himself against the wall. Once upon a time, he hadn't been afraid to die. He had known the odds were against him every day he had fought in the resistance. His family had all died. He had watched friend after friend be picked off day after day. If he were to die, too, then so be it.

And then he came back to the past, back to a place where he had family, where death wasn't an every day occurrence, where he didn't have to be a martyr, and the reality of it all had sunk into his skin and taken a hold of him, heart and soul. He didn't want to die, not now, not when he finally had something for which to live.

But this was it. This was the home stretch. If this worked, Wyatt would be saved.

And finally, _finally_, Chris would have a hand in Wyatt's fate. He would take care of his brother, instead of the other way around. He would save him.

A piece of paper orbed into his hand. Taking a deep breath, Chris stepped back from the wall. He had taken a moment to himself. Now he needed to get the job done. He glanced down at the scrap of paper and recognised Paige's messy scrawl.

_It's a go. WOLVERINES!_

He smiled despite himself. Did Paige know that she, he, and Penny would watch _Red Dawn_ together in the future? Hopefully, after this was all over, they still would. But apparently they were about to have their own red dawn.

This was it. This was the beginning of the end.

* * *

Leo wasn't sure he could do this. But he had to. Chris was counting on him. And even if he was too little to know it, Wyatt was too. Leo wouldn't let his boys down.

"This place gives me the creeps," Piper said. They had orbed to the cloudy home of the Elders, to the home of what was once the greatest, purest forces of good, and it would only be moments before he and Piper were surrounded.

"It's supposed to be calming," he replied, keeping a tight arm around her waist.

"Yeah, well, I'm creeped out."

"Leo!" It was Meredith, and shock was written all over her face as she stared at the two of them. She looked wary, too, and Leo couldn't really blame her, considering he had thrown a smoke bomb two feet from her face the last time he had seen her. "What —?"

"I have to explain," Leo said quickly. "Please — give me a chance to explain."

"Explain?" she repeated. She glanced behind her and then approached him, her voice lowering to a harsh whisper. "You better explain fast, because it'll only be seconds before everyone senses that you're here, and you won't be able to run away like that again, Leo."

"I know," he said quietly. "But I had to come. I _need_ to explain."

"Explain what? You _attacked_ us, Leo."

"Meredith —"

Orbs suddenly appeared all around them. Leo felt Piper's hand tense around his arm. He wasn't alone. She wasn't, either. They had each other, and they would do this together.

"Leo," Augustus said. "I'm surprised you have returned without coaxing."

"I had to. I know what I did was wrong. But I didn't know what else to do." His eyes bounced to the Elders that encircled them. He knew every single one. These people were his friends. Yet they looked at him now with blank faces. His insides tightened. "We're all on edge," he said. "A storm is coming, you know that. And we're all hurt over the loss of Angela, and we don't know who to trust, and . . . we need to talk."

"We do," agreed Cassandra, her soft lilting voice sounding hard for the first time in Leo's memory. "Shall we return to the trial room?"

"But where is Chris? And the other Charmed Ones?" Augustus asked.

"We don't know where Chris is," Piper said. "He — he ran away from us." She looked down at her feet. "But my sisters —" She glanced back up, a kind of resolve on her face. "They're at our house. In the attic. No offence, but I'd rather not go to your . . . trail room. Come to the Manor." It was quiet. "Please," she added.

"We just want to talk," Leo said. "We need to sort this out. We all have good intentions. And if the Charmed Ones and Elders can't work together, what chance does the rest of the world have?"

"He's right," said Tessa.

"I agree," said Adonis. "Evil's greatest weapon is misunderstanding. We must not let our fear blind us. We must talk." He nodded his head slowly.

"Yes," said Meredith. Her steady gaze bored into Leo. "I trust we are all fighting for what is right. Let us talk."

"I can sense the other Charmed Ones in their home," said Peter. "But I cannot sense Christopher." His eyes landed on Piper. She looked back at the ground, and her grip on Leo tightened even more.

"We don't know where he is," Leo said. "But we . . . we wanted to talk to you about that. Please. Let's go to the Manor."

"No," Gideon said.

Leo hadn't realised he was there. How had he not? It took every ounce of strength Leo had not to say something, to accuse Gideon, to pummel him to the ground. The memory of Gideon killing Chris was still a fresh wound inside of Leo. But he couldn't do anything . . . not yet.

"No," Gideon repeated. "It would be better for everyone to come here. If you do not prefer the trial room, I understand, of course." He nodded respectfully at Piper. "But it would be best to talk here. We are insulated here."

"Yes," said Augustus, "I agree."

"I will fetch your sisters," Cassandra told Piper, and she orbed away before Piper or Leo could protest.

It went quiet. "Well," Piper announced, "this is awkward."

A few of the Elders smiled, though the tension remained thick. And then Gideon smiled. "Don't worry, Piper. We will sort this out. I have faith."

Leo half expected Piper to turn her power on Gideon. Before she could, however, Cassandra reappeared, Phoebe and Paige on either side of her. They were all there. It was all in place.

"Now," Adonis said, "explain."

"It's Chris," Phoebe said softly. "We . . . don't trust him."

"We can't," said Leo, swallowing thickly, his mind rushing back to all those months ago, to the very first time they had cast the _To Heal a Heart_ spell. He had to do this. "He's my son — _our_ son, but he's still lying to us."

"I still don't want to believe that Wyatt turns evil," Piper said. "I mean, he's just a _baby_! We saw it in Chris's memory, but what if he fabricated it? People can do that, right?" Her eyes bounced from Elder to Elder.

"It is possible, yes," Augustus said. "But it would be difficult."

"We love him," Phoebe said. "He's our family — how can we not? But he's twisted everything. I mean, Leo said he used _smoke bombs_ on you. Things have gotten way out of hand." She paused. There were a few murmurs. "The point is — things have been going wrong ever since he returned from the past, and we've got to figure this out."

"He says he came to stop your son Wyatt from turning evil, yes?" asked Peter. "But he has not told you _how_ he will turn evil?"

"I don't believe him," Piper said. "There must be some other reason . . . I just don't trust him!"

Paige sighed. "Okay, look, Piper, I think we've established that you don't trust him," she said.

"I don't trust him either," Leo said.

Paige nodded patiently at Leo. "Yes, yes, I know. We all know. None of us trust Chris. Okay, we get it. Trust and Chris are not to be put in the same sentence. The question is what do we do now?"

"You really do not trust your own son?" asked Meredith, tilting her head at them. So far they had all been playing their parts well, but what if it didn't work? They weren't like Chris. _Leo_ wasn't like Chris. He couldn't so easily manipulate and lie to people.

"Look, I want to trust Chris," Phoebe said, "and I certainly don't want to believe him when he tells me my little nephew is going to become evil, but we can't totally discredit him." She glanced at Paige for support. "He has helped us a lot. And I know he isn't entirely evil — I felt the love that he had for Bianca. I know how much she meant to him. And I know how much he loves us, even if he won't let us in."

"But it is clear that he is manipulating you," Gideon said.

Leo nodded. "He has some sort of plan. He's our son but he . . he's certainly proven that he's not against manipulating us. We already know he's lied to us about some things; who knows how much else he's lying to us about."

"So then if he has a plan," Paige began.

"Which it certainly seems he does," said Cassandra.

Paige nodded. "But we don't know what his plan is, and so that's what we need to do. Good or evil, lying and manipulating or not, we need to figure out what his end game is, and we can figure out what to do from there."

"Do you have any ideas on how to do that?" Leo asked.

"We must speak with him," said Augustus. He stepped forward and put a hand on Leo's shoulder. "I know what it must have taken you — all of you — to come here. To believe that someone in our family is not who we wish him to be is a terrible thing. But one cannot deny the truth. Everyone has evil as well as good inside him. We must work to end the evil and to bring out the good."

He smiled kindly. Leo knew Augustus was a good person, a good Elder. He almost felt a kind of guilt at manipulating him like this. But it was the only way.

"But we can't find him," Piper said. "Don't you understand? He's missing! And he's obviously . . . sick and . . . I know he has a plan and I know he's lying to us, but he's still my son, and we have to help him! What if he does something and we —" She couldn't finish.

"Have faith," Meredith told Piper softly. "What will be, will be. And I believe, whatever his flaws or fears, Christopher Halliwell is a good soul. Have faith."

Piper said nothing.

"What has Chris told you?" Gideon asked. "Explain everything."

"He thinks that Wyatt turns evil because . . . because of an Elder," Leo answered slowly. "But Angela already told you that, didn't she? He claims that the demon Salome told him an Elder would try to kill Wyatt to prevent him turning evil, but it was the terror that this Elder would inspire in Wyatt that would turn him evil when he grew older."

"And that is why he is determined to destroy us," said Tessa.

"Looks that way," Paige said.

"Perhaps we should speak with this demon?" Gideon asked. "Salome, you said. Wentworth, I presume?" Leo nodded. "I know where to find her," Gideon said, nodding. "Shall I bring her?"

"Yes," Augustus said, nodding.

"Would you like me to accompany you?" offered Justine.

"No," Gideon said, smiling softly. "Thank you, but I do not anticipate trouble. I will return soon." He nodded at Leo and orbed.

"Enough," said Adonis. "You must not lie to us any longer."

"What?" asked Leo. _No_. They had already failed. _Of course they had_. Of course this had happened. Of course they weren't able to lie to twenty Elders. No one could.

Adonis stared at him. "You _do_ trust your son. You _do_ believe him. You _do_ think an Elder will be the one to turn your older son in an attempt to kill him, and you _do _know what your younger son's plan is, because you are in the act of implementing it."

The hall went silent.

"You're right," Piper finally said. Phoebe started to protest but Piper went on, not letting anyone else say anything. "We do. It's Gideon. He's gone now so I'll say it. It's him. It's Gideon. We know it. He's going to kill Chris and try to turn Wyatt. He's going to try to destroy my family." There was a kind of fire in her eyes.

"Gideon is a beacon of good!" Cassandra protested.

"He runs Magic School single-handedly!" exclaimed Peter.

"We are all in debt to him," Justine said.

"None of that matters," Piper insisted angrily. "Somehow, he learned of the future, and he saw my son was evil, and he became determined to kill him when he was little —"

"Impossible," interrupted Augustus. "Elders do not kill the innocent. If he saw the evil that Wyatt would one day embrace, he would work to prevent it, to save your son."

"But he doesn't," Phoebe said. "Don't you see? That's what all of you would have done. That's what we've been trying to do. That's why Chris came into the past. But it's not what Gideon does."

"And why should we trust you?" Peter demanded. "You were attempting to fool us only moments ago!"

"You all know how dangerous it is to look into the future," Leo said. He had to say this right. He had to make them understand. "We try to know about it so we can steer innocents to good, but the future is fickle, and we can only know so much of it, or else we change it. But Gideon has always looked into it more than the rest of us. Isn't that how he convinced you to let him open Magic School? Because he had foreseen so clearly what good it would bring?"

No one answered. But they were listening, and Leo took strength in that. "He saw the future that he created because he was seeing the future. You all know that danger. When I first became an Elder, you warned me." He paused. "Don't you see how everything is unravelling? A storm is coming, you say that over and over again, but can't you see how that storm will overtake us? We're falling apart. The forces of good are falling apart.

"We came here to try to trick you all. We thought the only way we could save Chris and Wyatt was to lie to you, to manipulate you. We thought we could make you root out Gideon yourselves, because you would never believe it from us. We abandoned truth in a twisted attempt for justice — that isn't how it's supposed to be. This isn't what good is all about."

He looked imploringly at the Elders that circled them.

"He's right," Meredith whispered.

"But to believe that _Gideon_ . . ." began Augustus.

"You _have_ to believe us," Paige said. "It all makes sense! He's probably conspiring with Salome right now, and when he brings her back, she'll —"

"If he really is at fault," Justine said, "we'll discover it."

"Angela," said Lilah, one of the youngest yet oldest Elders, having become one over two thousand years ago when she was only seven years old. Her wisdom always looked a little strange on her small, round, adorably childish face. "It was Gideon who brought Angela to us. It was Gideon who told us that she had turned. It was Gideon who suggested she be recycled." She paused. "I always liked Angela. She was truly a better angel."

"But Gideon knew that, too," Peter said. "He would never have intentionally brought ill upon Angela, just as he would never — _never_ — try to kill an innocent little boy, no matter what he saw in the future."

"But he _does_!" Piper exploded. "Why can't you people just fathom for one minute that maybe one of your own isn't as perfect as he seems!"

There were a few murmurs. "Christopher," Adonis said. "We should bring him here. We will not recycle him. We will not harm him. We will not take him to the trial room. But if truth is to win out, which it shall, he must be here. Bring him."

Leo looked at Paige, then at Phoebe, and finally at Piper.

"Trust us," Meredith said.

Piper looked over at her. Something silent passed between them. "Okay," Piper murmured. "Go get him." It was all going to work out. It was already on the right path. Gideon might have strayed, but the Elders were still good, and it would all work out. Leo smiled at Piper one last time. He orbed back to Earth. He orbed to the hidden caverns.

"Chris!" he shouted. Chris would have fetched Wyatt and returned by now. "Chris!"

His voice echoed through the room. Chris wasn't there. Neither was Wyatt. Leo started down the hall. No one was there. And then he heard it. It broke through his mind. It was Chris's voice, shouting for him. He recognised the shout — it was a silent shout, the kind charges gave when they were terrified to make a sound so they screamed for Leo in their thoughts. Chris was in trouble.

Chris was at the Manor, Leo could sense it. Wyatt was there, too.

And so was Gideon.

Leo orbed to the Manor instantly.

He climbed the stairs two at a time. He couldn't orb right into the attic where they were — Gideon could use the few seconds it took for him to materialise to take him out. He reached the top of the stairs and threw the attic door open just in time to see Chris fly backwards, a sickening crack echoing through the room when his back hit the far wall. He sank to the ground. His entire shirt was darkened with blood and it trickled out of his mouth. A knife was still buried in his stomach. Gideon rose to his feet with fiery eyes.

He stalked towards Chris, who was taking ragged breaths. "Get away from my son," Leo snarled.

Gideon spun around. Leo had managed to take him completely by surprise. Gideon glanced at Chris and then back at Leo. "You shouldn't have become involved, Leo," he said. "You should have trusted me."

"Trusted you?" Leo repeated. "You're trying to kill my sons!" He could barely breath. Wyatt was still crying, his force field up, and Chris lay sprawled across the wall, gasping. "Wyatt," he called. "Come here. Come to daddy." Wyatt orbed to him instantly.

"I didn't want this," Gideon said. He turned back to Chris. "You should not have returned to the past. You should not try to protect him. If anyone knows of the evil he will command, it is you." He looked back at Leo. "I know you don't want to believe it, Leo, but Wyatt Halliwell will become the greatest force of evil this world has ever seen, and we must stop him. You cannot protect him any longer."

"He turns evil because of _you_," Leo said. Gideon started to say something, and Leo took the chance to shout, "To Piper!" The innocent baby boy in his arms disappeared. He was safe, at least for now. He waved his hand at Chris, starting to repeat the words and send Chris to safety, to a hall full of beings who could heal him. But he couldn't. Gideon waved his own hand, knocking the wind out of Leo, who only stumbled backwards.

Gideon's face tightened.

Chris made a strangled sound, and Leo knew he needed to heal him. But how could he? Gideon stood between them, and as much as Leo hated it, hated _him_, Gideon was more powerful than he, and he could stop Leo in an instant. And even if Leo could overpower him and could heal Chris then — then what would they do? Take Gideon to the other Elders? Paige, Phoebe, and Piper were still trying to convince them to listen, to understand, to realise — but surely Gideon wouldn't be able to talk his way out of this and —

Chris looked up at Gideon. There was something in his face. It was clear he wanted to say something. "You," he gasped. He choked. Gideon did nothing. He watched. His face was unreadable. "You — you can't win," he whispered. His eyes had gone a little glazed.

Leo started towards him.

"This is not about winning, Chris. This is about the greater —"

Leo felt the magic surge out of him before he knew what was happening, and the lightening shot out of his hands and wrapped around Gideon. The magic that trapped Gideon seemed to consume Leo, too. He was so _fucking_ angry. How could this have happened? How could Gideon, his mentor, his friend, his fellow Elder, turn into this person? How could he have betrayed the forces of good? How could he have betrayed _Leo_?

Gideon finally found the strength to resist, and there was a kind of explosion between their magic. When the dust cleared, Leo was on his hands and knees, his head spinning, and Gideon was trying and failing to stand. His robes were bloody. "I had no choice, Leo," he said. "It was the only way. And this — this is the only way." He made it to his feet. He raised his hands.

"He's right, you know," Leo said. "You can't win." Gideon said nothing, but he also _did_ nothing, and Leo managed to stand up. His legs shook beneath him. "Don't you see that you've already lost? You lost the day Chris came back to the past. It'll always be stronger than you, Gideon. Family. Love. It always wins."

"Chris was valiant to return to the past, but it was a useless effort. I _will_ put a stop to Wyatt. He is too powerful. We should never have allowed you and Piper to have him."

"He's not the one you should have been worried about," Leo said. "It was Chris. He's already stopped you. For you to get away with this now, Gideon, you have to kill me, and the Charmed Ones, too. And how will you get your hands on Wyatt, then? The Charmed Ones are with the Elders now. They're talking about you. You can't do this. It's over. You can't win, because we already have. It wasn't Wyatt who got you. It was Chris. Both my sons are better than you."

The look on Gideon's face made it clear that he wasn't the Gideon Leo had once knew.

"I will not have to kill you, Leo," he said coldly. "You will understand eventually."

"I will _never_ understand," Leo spat. "I might be loyal to the greater good, but even I'm not that much of a company man."

It all happened quickly after that. Chris whispered for him, whispered with a broken voice, "_Dad_." Gideon threw up his hands. Leo did, too. Two streams of magic blazed forward and met in the middle.

Piper was seven years old and had scraped her knee. Phoebe was insisting that she hadn't cheated, that the Ouija board was telling her to go to the attic. _"Leo, how do you feel about women who make the first move?"_ Piper was propped up on the table, and Wyatt had just been born, and he was so tiny and they had made him, and wasn't it amazing? Paige moved in, finally becoming a part of the family she belonged in. _"Leo, I was born to love you and I always will."_ Prue was hugging him as if she hadn't been dead a day, let alone years. And then there was Chris.

A kind of determination spun through Leo. Chris would still hate him after this. But it didn't matter. Leo would keep trying. He would make Chris realise that he loved him, that Wyatt wasn't any better than him, that he would always be there, no matter what.

In Leo's mind's eyes, Chris started laughing at something Piper said, and the final surge of magic burst from Leo. Gideon was thrown backwards. And just like that, it was over. Gideon lay silently on the ground, his leg twisted beneath him, blood trickling down his face. It was over. He was dead.

Leo had killed him.

And in his head, he could see five-year-old Chris hugging Piper.

Gideon was dead. Wyatt was safe. And Chris —

Leo's breath caught in his chest. He scrambled to his son, to the pale boy who lay motionless, his head slumped on his shoulder, the knife still buried deep in his stomach. Leo collapsed beside him, reached out to him, said his name over and over again. Chris didn't respond. "No," Leo gasped. "No . . . please, it's — it's all over, it's just —"

There was the sound of orbs. Someone shouted. People were talking and running. There were more orbs. Leo didn't see or hear any of it.

_"I'm Chris _— _Chris Perry_."

His finger had landed on _that_ spot on Chris's neck.

_"I just want to help you, Chris."_

There wasn't a pulse.

_"You're a little late, _Dad_."_

Chris was dead.

**To Be Continued . . . **

A/N: Erm . . . don't kill me? There was lots of repetition in this chapter -- both at the beginning and the end, and a bit of a throwback to the beginning of the story in the middle (did you understand Chris's little "we start at the beginning"?) I hope that I didn't confuse anyone. I've been waiting to do this chapter for so long. I hope it all worked! Review and let me know :) The next chapter should be up VERY soon. There are only two more left.

P.S. I'm a sucker for happy endings. Remember that.

P.P.S. If you haven't seen _Red Dawn_ go watch it now. Seriously. _Now._


	23. Chapter 23

_A/N: This is the final chapter. Wow. That's weird to type. I've been working on this for _years_. It's a little crazy. What will I do with myself? There WILL be, however, an epilogue! Yay! Hopefully that will be posted soon. Now, enjoy the "finale" and remember my two most favourite things: I own no rights to Charmed and make no profit from this, and it's AU after "Prince Charming."_

* * *

His hands were shaking as he let them hover over Chris.

He wouldn't let him die. He wouldn't. Chris could survive for a few minute after his heart stopped beating; it was possible, wasn't it? It was. Because he was not going to die now, not when it was finally all over.

Warmth gathered inside him and flooded down his arms and out of his hands. This was his son, his boy, and Leo knew he had failed him in the future. He couldn't fail him now, too. His mind flashed to when he'd tried to heal Prue and nothing had happened. It wouldn't be like that.

He had lost charges before, many more than Prue. But he wouldn't lost Chris. He _wouldn't_.

"Leo," someone murmured.

"No," he said, not taking his eyes off of Chris, "_no."_

"It's too late," said someone else.

"It's too late?" someone repeated, anger searing her tone. Leo recognised the voice. It was Piper. She was here. She was watching her son die, too (because he wasn't dead yet, _he wasn't_), and Leo wouldn't let it happen. She wouldn't have to see him die. She wouldn't have to lose him. She wouldn't have to suffer anymore.

He tried to pour himself into his magic, and he felt it surge inside him, but Chris remained motionless.

"How can you let this happen? How can you stand here and watch my son die?"

"Piper, I know that you —"

"No, don't give me that! He's done nothing but good, and he doesn't deserve to die! He _deserves_ to live a life that isn't haunted by the mistakes other people have made!" Piper shouted. People kept talking. Leo tuned them out. He closed his eyes. He laid his hands on Chris's chest, as if somehow that would make the magic work. It had to. _Please._

Someone placed a hand on his shoulder. Heat seared Leo. His eyes flickered open, and he looked down to see the golden glow of his magic was blazing. There was another surge of heat through him, and the glow burned white. Yet another gush of heat rolled over him, and the magic beneath his hands grew so bright it blinded him.

He found himself raising up a hand to block his eyes.

And then it was over.

He reached his hands to Chris again, because he wasn't going to stop, he was going to kneel on the attic and pour himself into Chris until his son was okay. But his hands paused, and something inside him choked.

Chris was looking at him. He was blinking and suddenly he started coughing, and he lurched forward. Leo just managed to catch him. Someone started laughing, maybe Phoebe, but Leo didn't care, because _it had worked_.

Chris was alive.

_Chris was alive_.

"It's okay," Leo told Chris, trying to steady him. "You're okay. You're okay." He repeated the mantra in his head. Piper was beside him a moment later, wrapping her arms around Chris and pressing kiss after kiss to his temple.

Leo slowly pulled away, disbelief making him delirious, and his eyes landed on the five Elders that stood nearby — Adonis, Meredith, Lilah, Cassandra, and Augustus. Lilah smiled. "You're welcome," she said.

"What happened?" Chris asked, Piper helping him to his feet.

"We did it," Phoebe said tearfully. She was hugging Wyatt to her, and the small boy looked a little bored, if anything. He was okay. He was unharmed. He was safe. "You and Leo did it," Phoebe said. Leo glanced over at Gideon's body, at the Elder who had betrayed him, at the Elder he had killed, and his eyes flew quickly back to the others.

"We understand," Augustus said. "He had fallen from grace, and it was the only way. He must face other judges now." He nodded solemnly.

"Thank you," Phoebe said. "Thank you for helping save him. Thank you so much."

Leo glanced at Chris. The boy's expression was unreadable.

Adonis reached forward and placed a hand on Leo's shoulder. "You have been through much, Leo. We hope that you have not lost faith, not in goodness, not it us. In the coming storm, we will need you."

His mind flashed to the all the times he hadn't been able to heal as a whitelighter because the Elders hadn't allowed it, because it was too late, they said. This time they had added their magic to his in order to ensure that it _wasn't_ too late. They had saved Chris.

Gideon had fallen. It wasn't Leo's fault. It was Gideon who hadn't understood.

"I haven't lost faith," Leo said. He looked over at Phoebe and Wyatt, at Paige, at Chris and Piper, at his family, and something inside him that had absolutely nothing do with magic warmed.

"We must be on our way," Cassandra said. "The others need to be informed. Things are going to change." Her grim eyes fixed on Gideon. "I will take care of him." She went over to the body, kneeling down beside it. Leo looked away.

"There's one more thing," Lilah said, tilting her head as she looked at Leo. "You have attacked and attempted to manipulate other Elders, Leo," she said. "That can not go unpunished."

Leo swallowed thickly. "I did what I had to do," he said.

"He was trying to do _good_," Phoebe defended.

"He killed another Elder," said Augustus.

"You yourself just said that was okay!" Paige exclaimed.

"I'm sorry," said Meredith. "But it is necessary."

"You're fucking yourselves over," Chris said. Leo's head snapped to his son. Chris wasn't looking at him, wasn't addressing him. His eyes were trained on the other Elders. "You keep talking about a growing storm and how you have to hold strong against it and we shouldn't lose faith, but you're trying to punish the best you've got? Are you kidding me?"

It took Leo a moment to realise what Chris had just said. Had he misunderstand? Was Chris actually _defending_ him? A new kind of hope soured up within him and curled around his heart.

"For someone who's life we have just saved," Augustus replied sharply, "you show astoundingly little respect."

"So sue me," Chris snapped.

"At least he's consistent," Paige said cheerfully. "That's something, right?"

Augustus only crossed his arms over his chest.

"We still hope for your help in the future," Lilah said, "all of your help." Her eyes flickered over the Charmed Ones. "But, Leo Wyatt, you do not belong with us. Not any longer. You have proven more than once that you are a man better suited to serve on Earth than with us. You are a whitelighter. You are a husband, a brother-in-law, and a father. These duties are those to which you give your loyalty."

Leo stared. He knew what his punishment was. "You're — you're demoting me?" he asked.

"I suppose that would be the word," Meredith said. And then she smiled. "Thank you, Leo, for everything. Do not be a stranger." She nodded at Cassandra, and they both orbed, Gideon disappearing with them.

"That is okay, isn't it?" Lilah asked, a kind of twinkle in her seven-year-old eyes. Adonis and Augustus were both looking at him expectantly.

Leo's eyes found Paige, Phoebe, and Wyatt. They were awaiting his answer, too. His gaze travelled to Chris and Piper. Chris was staring determinedly at the ground. But Piper met Leo's stare, and he could see the answer in her face, an answer that had always been there, even if he hadn't always seen it.

"That's okay," Leo murmured.

"I rather thought so," Lilah said. And she orbed. Leo could have sworn she winked as she left. Adonis stared at Leo, and a gush of something cold swam through him. Adonis nodded and orbed. Augustus followed soon after.

Leo wasn't an Elder any longer.

He looked back at Piper. Her eyes were gleaming with tears. She stepped away from Chris. She bit her lip. She started to smile. He found himself smiling, too, and suddenly she was walking towards him, and the moment she was within his reach, he wrapped his arms around her. She was warm and alive and _his_, and how had he ever thought it possible to leave this, to leave her?

"You're coming home," she said.

"I'm coming home," he answered. He closed his eyes momentarily, taking a deep breath of her, and he knew that he wasn't coming home. "I already am." After all, wasn't that what she was?

She pulled back slightly, wiping at her eyes, and laughed slightly. He felt a little as if she had just kissed him for the first time or they had just gone on their first real date or they had just finally exchanged their wedding vows. He felt a little as if as something was beginning, something that was so _right_, just like all those past moments that had made them who they are.

Looking at her, he knew it wouldn't be easy. It never was. After everything they had gone through, after the way he had left as if he didn't have a choice, after all the doubt and confusion and heart wrenching separation, they couldn't simply start back where they had left off. But they could start somewhere, and it would eventually be the way it was supposed to be, because they were Leo and Piper, and they were supposed to be together from the beginning.

They had been, and after this, they always would be.

The next thing knew, Phoebe and Paige were both approaching him, and his three favourite women were surrounding him, were hugging him, and Wyatt giggled as he was pressed between his aunt and his father.

"You made a sucky Elder anyway," Paige told him. Leo laughed.

"Wait," said Piper, stepping back and glancing around the room. "Where's —?"

She looked back at Leo. Some of the giddiness faded from him. Wyatt made a cooing sound, waving his tiny fist through the air, lost in his own world from his perch in Phoebe's arms. No one said anything.

Chris was gone.

* * *

He slowly sat down on the bed.

It still seemed strange that he had spent the last year _living _in P3. He hadn't been able to step foot in it for years, not after his mother had died in it. Once the world really went to hell, the building was destroyed in one of Wyatt's many demonic battles — Chris couldn't remember which, because, hell, who really cared? — and P3 became part of hazy memories that meant as little as everything else from his childhood.

Yet he lived here now, in this back room, on the make shift bed. Piper had entreated him multiple times in the last few weeks to come live in the house, but there wasn't room, and he had sort of grown attached to his back room.

He'd be leaving it soon. Now that he'd done what he'd come to do, now that he'd saved Wyatt, there was no reason to stay in the past any longer. He'd finally done what he'd planned for months. He had saved his family. If it had worked, if it had really worked, then they would all still be alive.

When he went to the changed future, would he remember how it had once been? What would it be like to have his mom and aunts still alive? Would they have the memory of when he'd returned to the past? They would have to. And what about Leo — would he really forgo becoming an Elder? What would it be like growing up with him?

_"Don't you see that you've already lost? You lost the day Chris came back to the past."_

The words echoed in his head. The events of the last few hours were mainly blurred. He had been on the brink of death, after all. But he could remember Leo's words, could remember listening as his father faced off with Gideon while the rest of the world turned black at the edges.

_"It was Chris. He's already stopped you."_

He couldn't really fathom that his father had actually killed Gideon. And then the other Elders had helped save Chris. It went against everything Chris had always known growing up. What did all of that mean for the new future? And did it even matter what it meant? What were the chances Chris would remember any of this? Would it have been simpler if he simply died, and eight or so months from now when Piper had him, he would be raised in a new future and never have to return to the past?

_"It wasn't Wyatt who got you. It was Chris. Both my sons are better than you."_

And, of course, there was the question of whether or not they had really done it. Did this really guarantee that Wyatt wouldn't turn evil? Was Gideon the one who, single-handedly, had turned him? Chris's spinning mind slowly stopped and steeled. He needed to make sure.

He orbed to her apartment. She wasn't there. He orbed to her lair in the underworld. She wasn't there. He was about to orb to her father's lair when she shimmered into the room. "You're alive," she said. Her eyes flickered from his head to feet and back again. "Pity."

"Is it changed?" he asked. There was no point beating around the bush.

"I was expecting you to come sooner, if you lived. I suppose it took you a little while to . . . _fathom_ it all." She splayed her hand in the air with a dramatic air. She shimmered again and reappeared on the stone table at the far end of the room, leaning back on one arm with her legs crossed as she tilted her head at him.

"Is. It. Changed?" he demanded, gritting his teeth.

She bit her lip. "What if I say no?"

"Then I'll expect you to explain who's after him next and why killing Gideon wasn't enough," he replied sharply. He wasn't in the mood to play games.

"Oh, so persistent," she said. "You really do love your brother, don't you?"

"We don't all get our kicks killing off our siblings," Chris snapped.

"That's because no one ever tries," she said. "I bet you'd like it if only you'd give it a chance." Her lips curled back in her awful grin, one he had seen so many times in the future.

He only stared at her, willing her to give an answer.

"What I see," she finally said, a kind of gleam in her eye, "is many battles between you and I. After all, I can't very well have her kill me, can I? The silly girl will try. And you'll do everything you can to protect her from my wrath until she can protect herself. Fights between you and I will ensue. It's unclear who will win. Future telling always has been a fickle fiend. But I suppose that's a worry for another day, isn't it?"

Chris had dealt with a cryptic Salome before. He knew how to spot the key. "Who's _she_?" he asked. This better be some ridiculous roundabout way of answering his question. He could hear Piper calling in his head, but he ignored her.

"Melinda," she said simply, her voice curling around the name.

He frowned. "Who's Melinda?"

"Your baby sister." The words hung in the air. "She's a bratty little girl, if you ask me," Salome went on. "She gets whatever she wants, because if anyone tries to argue with the precious darling, her beloved big brothers interfere. The only forces of good as annoying as the oh-so-powerful Charmed Ones are the tag team Wyatt and Chris Halliwell." She rolled her eyes as if annoyed, but the smirk never left her face.

She was taking way too much enjoyment out of all of this.

But Chris didn't care. He took a quick, shallow breath.

_It had worked._

"It looks like you can count this one as a victory," Salome said breezily. "Good _triumphs_." The words rang with her scorn, yet she was smirking at him. "Of course, I can't deny that I'm all for this turn of events. I suppose I should even thank you." She paused, her eyes flashing, "I rather like the idea of _not_ being his _darling_."

Chris's mind spun with all the possibilities once more. Wyatt would never turn evil. _Wyatt would never turn evil._ No matter what it changed, it was a good thing. The changes would be good. He would have a sister. His family would live. His mother would live. Penny would live. The world wouldn't be terrorised. Wyatt would be somebody to count on again.

Wyatt would never turn evil.

"Oh, look at you," Salome cooed, the sound strange with her raspy voice, "all delighted. You almost look happy. A new feeling for you, is it?"

Chris only smiled. A sudden burst of fondness for Salome grew up within him. How messed up was that? He shook his head. He really had gone soft in the past. And maybe, he thought, maybe that wasn't such a terrible thing. After all, there wouldn't be a Resistance to fight for in the future, would there?

"You've never been anybody's darling," Chris finally replied.

"Let's keep it that way," Salome said. "Keep an eye on Mellie — I certainly will be." And looking immensely pleased with herself, Salome Wentworth shimmered away.

"Mellie," Chris murmured.

He orbed back to P3 and lay back on his small bed. It occurred to him that maybe he should have asked after Bianca. He had only met her through Wyatt's evil, through Salome saying that Chris would turn evil if Bianca could seduce him. Would he be able to find her and turn her and get a happy ending with her now, in the changed future?

"Yes," he told himself. Because it was what he wanted, and after all of this, Chris was going to get what he wanted, what had nothing to do with his family or with the Resistance or with Wyatt. This one would be all for him.

A kind of excitement to return to the future and see it all righted bloomed inside him. He had to go back soon.

Someone orbed into the room, and Chris sat up just in time to greet Paige. "Hey," he said, picturing her in the future, wondering what it would be like for her to be alive, for her to be the person she now was. Would she still get divorced? Would she be the person she is now? Had _that_ changed?

"Hey yourself," she replied, putting her hands on her hips. "You're not really trying to worm your way out a celebratory dinner, are you? Because Piper _will_ come after you with that huge industrial cooking pot of hers and those scary kitchen knifes Phoebe bought her last Christmas."

"What?" Chris said. "Are you saying you don't think I could take her?"

"Have you _seen _those knives? I fear for my own life just _looking _at them."

Chris shook his head at her, smiling. "I just had to check a few things." He paused. "I talked to Salome."

Paige's face lit up. "And?"

"And we did it," he said, he found the words tumbling out of him, as if not saying them quickly enough would make the less true, would make them lose their value as time passed. But they were true. It was true. "We changed it. Wyatt never turns evil."

Paige pumped a triumphant fist in the air. "Damn straight we did!" She grinned widely, and then her face softened. "Damn straight _you_ did, kid."

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "Yeah." It was quiet, and Chris found himself thinking of the changed future again, or how different it would all be. Would he have gone to college in the changed future? Would he be _in_ college when he returned?

Penny used to want to go to Stanford.

"So how about you come home?" Paige asked. "We'll all get a nice home-cooked meal to celebrate, and Piper won't come after you with knives and beat you over the head with her industrial pot? It's a win-win," she said.

"Well, if you put it like that," he said, standing. She laughed a little, and Chris thought again of what it would be like growing up with this Paige as an aunt. They both orbed.

"_There_ you are!" Piper exclaimed before either Chris or Paige had fully materialised. "You can't go running off like that." She was smiling as she looked at them.

"Chris went to see Salome," Paige said.

"Ooh, what did you get out of her?" Phoebe asked from the kitchen table. "Did it work? Is all right in the future?" She looked eagerly between Chris and Paige.

Chris only nodded.

"Of course it is!" Piper said. She beamed. "Now sit," she told Chris. "I'm making lasagna, and you're not leaving this kitchen until it's been made, served, and you've had three servings."

"As long as you put extra cheese on it," Chris said, sitting down beside Phoebe. His mom always used to make it with extra cheese. He didn't like it otherwise, and for that reason, hadn't eaten a bite of the dish since he was thirteen.

"I always do," Piper said.

In the future, would he come home from breaks at college to have his mom make him lasagna?

"We should do something completely fun and crazy this weekend," Phoebe said. "I'll turn in my column in advance and we can all get out of town, orb somewhere — where's somewhere you always wanted to go?" she asked Chris.

He had never much thought of where he'd want to go on vacation. The last time he longed to, he had probably been about ten, and Disney Land had topped his list. He wasn't sure he would like vacation, would like a week or a weekend spent sitting around doing nothing.

"I don't know," he said, shrugging. "But I won't be with you, so where have you always wanted to go?"

"Oh, of course you're coming with us, sweetie," Phoebe said dismissively, as if wasn't even up for discussion.

"What else are you gonna do?" asked Paige. "Sit around and brood? You've got nothing left to brood about."

But Piper was looking at him thoughtfully, and he knew she understand what had somehow momentarily escaped Phoebe and Paige. "So soon?" she asked softly.

He nodded. At Phoebe's puzzled face, he said, "I have to go back. This isn't my time. I don't belong here. I've done what I came to do. It's time for me to go home."

"Oh," Phoebe said. "I hadn't even . . . wow. That's weird to think about. I've gotten so use to you being around." She smiled. "But maybe you could wait a little while? A few more weeks? We never really got to enjoy just being a family."

He shook his head. "I don't belong here," he said. "I never have."

"Do you know how to get back?" Piper asked. "I mean, safely?"

"The spell that brought me here can be reversed," Chris said. "It's what Bianca did."

It was quiet.

"Well," Paige said. "You're not going back tonight, are you?"

Chris shook his head.

"Then let's enjoy tonight," she said. "Right?" She looked at Phoebe, who nodded and echoed the word.

They went on talking about inconsequential things, joking, discussing P3 and how it could still be so successful when they all neglected it for so long. Phoebe started doing impressions of the people who worked at the paper with her that made Paige laugh so hard she started crying. Paige announced an ambition to become a social worker again and to go skydiving and to try dying her hair blonde.

"Please don't," Chris said. He thought she looked strange enough with fading red hair.

"Oh, yeah, sweetie, you wouldn't look good blonde," Phoebe said. "Well, actually, you _always_ look good, but blonde would just be weird."

"Says the girl who dyed her hair blonde while I was on vacation and couldn't stop her," Piper said. Phoebe stuck her tongue out at her.

Chris looked down at his can of Pepsi. It was all so normal and simple and easy. He supposed maybe sometime when he was little there had been moments like this. Maybe before Paige and Phoebe became invested and obsessed with their own lives, maybe before Piper had started to struggle to support her family, maybe when Chris was little and didn't understand the things that went wrong, maybe before Chris had finally really acknowledged that Leo didn't love him.

Leo.

Chris glanced around. Leo wasn't there. Where had he gone? He had killed Gideon, his mentor, and then been stripped of his powers as an Elder. Was he upset? His earlier words echoed through Chris yet again.

"Where's Leo?" he asked.

Phoebe, who had been in the middle of saying something, paused, looking surprised. She glanced at Piper and Paige. "I don't know," she said.

"He said he needed a little time to himself," Piper said. Her voice was soft. "I thought he deserved it. This has been hard on him, and it's probably going to stay hard for a while." She cleared her throat. "But he'll be back for dinner, I'm sure. Don't worry."

Chris nodded. "I'm gonna see if I can find him," he said. The last thing he saw before he orbed was the clear shock on Phoebe's face.

He knew where to go. He might never have been close with Leo, but he still knew enough about the man, and, sure enough, Leo sat atop the Golden Gate Bridge, gazing down at the city with a blank face. He looked over at Chris's arrival and smiled. "Piper send you?" he asked knowingly.

"She's still working on dinner," Chris replied, and he sat down beside Leo. He didn't really know what he was doing, and he stared out at the sky rather than face Leo, who was surely taken aback.

"Chris," Leo said hesitantly, "I . . ." He sighed. "I know nothing has changed between us, and I know you must be — I know you'll return to the future soon. But I want you to know that I don't regret killing Gideon, because it was what I had to do to protect Wyatt and to protect you, and I might have done wrong by you in your past, but I'm not going to in my future."

It sounded as if he had been planning what to say.

Chris looked down at his hands. "Those things you said," he murmured. "To Gideon. You said . . ." He paused. He didn't even know what _he _was saying. "It's not easy, you know, being Wyatt Halliwell's little brother. And for as long as I can remember, I've been Wyatt's baby brother. I mean, everybody knows me through Wyatt. I've never just been Chris. I've always been Wyatt's brother. And I . . . I don't even know what I'm trying to say."

He looked back out across the cloudless sky.

"Chris," Leo said, and a hesitant hand touched Chris's shoulder. "I know that Wyatt is powerful. But magic doesn't define us. The choices we make, the people we become, the hearts we touch, the lives we change . . . the battles we choose to fight, no matter the cost — that's what matters.

"Everyone knows how powerful the Charmed Ones are," Leo went on. "But what makes them great, what makes them . . . what makes them the Charmed Ones isn't just their powers. It's their sisterhood, their love for each other, their . . . I don't know who Wyatt will become. But I know you will be a good man. A great man. You're determined and — and passionate and loyal and . . and _good_. You, Chris, regardless of who your brother is or what he does or the magic he possesses, _you_ are everything that the Charmed Ones are. You're their legacy.

"And no matter what happens, remember that. Be proud of that. And know that I'm proud of you for that. I'm proud of my boy."

The stupid wind was making Chris's eyes water.

He glanced over at his father. "You've never said that before. That you're proud of me." He choked on a laugh, unable to hold Leo's gaze and instead staring back off into the sky again. "I never thought I was good enough for you. And at some point, I stopped trying to be, or I told myself I'd stopped, and I said it didn't matter, but it always . . . it always mattered."

It had always mattered.

He grew up thinking of himself as the accident after his parents had tried for years to have Wyatt, as the weak little boy who his father had sacrificed to heal, as the little boy who was never as smart or fast or strong or powerful, as the little boy who just wasn't worth the trouble. And the only way to deal with that was to say that he didn't care.

Wyatt had always known that Chris did care.

And so had Chris.

"Believe me, Chris," Leo said. "You're plenty good enough for me. And when Piper has her baby, when she has you, I'll make sure I tell that baby how good enough he is, how proud of him I am, and how much I love him every _single_ day."

Chris faced him again, and his father squeezed his shoulder, and this time when they orbed to the Manor, Chris knew he really was coming home.

* * *

"I can't believe you're really leaving," Phoebe said. "I'm so used to having you around."

"I'll be around again soon," Chris said, nodding at Piper.

"I know," Phoebe said, "but I have a feeling changing your diapers isn't really going to be the same."

"Um, speaking of which . . . can I sign up for another duty?" Paige volunteered. "Like making sure he doesn't eat marbles or something?" She made a face.

Piper shook her head at the both of them and Chris was momentarily distracted by the idea of the Paige and Phoebe he knew, the Paige and Phoebe who were more his friends than his aunts at this point, changing his diapers and wiping his spit-up and spoon-feeding him. It would be as weird for them as it was for him to see his mother and aunts young and alive.

Leo finished drawing the triquetra in chalk on the wall of the attic. "Is it wrong that I'm a little nervous?" Chris asked. He had no idea what to expect. How could he _not_ be nervous?

"I'd be freaking out if I were you," Paige said.

"You can stay another day if you'd like," Piper suggested hopefully.

"No," Chris said, taking a deep breath. "It's time." He stared at the chalk symbol. "Do you think I'll remember?"

"Do you want to?" asked Phoebe.

"Honestly?" Chris said. "I have no idea."

He finally looked from the attic wall to see they were all watching him. "Well," Paige said, "I guess I'll go first." She stepped towards him. "I'm really gonna miss you and your neurotic ways."

_"I guess I'm trying to say that I don't want you to start calling me Aunt Paige and I don't want a hug and I'm not going to force anything down your throat, but I just . . . I just want you to know that you can talk to me."_

He smiled. "I'll miss you, too, Aunt Paige." But maybe he wouldn't, because she would be waiting in the future.

"Now here comes the hugging," she warned, smiling, and she hugged him. He tried to remember the last time he had hugged his aunt Paige. He wasn't sure he ever had before. She pulled back. "Say Hi to Penny for me," she said, grinning. "And if I'm still smoking in the changed future, buy me a nicotine patch, will you?"

"Sure," he promised, smiling despite himself.

Phoebe came forward next, and she squeezed him tightly. "Ooh, I wish we'd had longer with you, even if we get baby you soon enough."

_"You are so strong, Chris. So much like Prue. You have this determination, and this goodness in you that I see, and I — I see it and I know, I know that I could love you even if you weren't my family if only I had the chance to. If only you would let me. And maybe if I can, then I will be a good aunt one day."_

He laughed. "Thanks, Aunt Phoebe. Thanks for everything."

What would it be like growing up with this Phoebe for an aunt?

"Of course," she said, stepping away. "Family takes care of each other, right?" She tilted her head, and before he knew what was happening, she was hugging him again. Paige laughed. "Be good!" Phoebe said, kissing his cheek as she finally let him go.

When she stepped back, she was wiping away tears. She looked at him with a soft expression. "Enjoy that beautiful, beautiful future you helped create." She wiped away another tear. Paige grinned at him and wrapped an arm around Phoebe's shoulder.

"I guess it's my turn, right?" Piper asked. Chris turned to her. It wasn't really goodbye, right? She would be in the future. She would be alive. It wasn't goodbye. He hugged her, his eyes flickering closed. She smelt like his mom. "Thank you for coming here," she said quietly, running a hand over his hair. "I love you."

_"It's okay . . . it's okay. You've saved me now. You've saved me. . . . It's okay. You saved me."_

"I love you, too," he murmured, "I love you so, so much, Mom." He pulled back and she smiled up at him, wrapping an arm around her stomach.

And then all that was left was to say goodbye to Leo.

"Goodbye," Leo said. "Good luck." He smiled. He didn't try to approach Chris. There was reserve in his eye, a restraint to respect Chris, but there was also a kind of determination, and Chris knew for what. Leo really did believe he was going to do right by Chris the second time around.

And Chris finally believed him.

_"You're my son. I love you. There is nothing that could ever change that." _

He stepped towards his father. Leo was surprised, Chris could tell, but he opened his arms, and for the first time in his memory, Chris hugged his father, and it might have been a little awkward, a little strange, but it was enough.

It was enough.

"I love you, son," Leo said. Chris pulled back and nodded.

"I know," he said. It was barely a whisper, then, but, looking at Leo, he said what had long been his best kept secret. "I love you, too."

It all happened quickly, then. The sisters said the spell, the triquetra glowed and the portal opened. Glancing one last time at his family, at little Wyatt playing on the ground with his toys, oblivious to the world around him. "See you, buddy," Chris said. He waved his hand.

Wyatt smiled, biting his lip. "Bye bye!" He waved a chubby fist. Piper gasped. "Bye bye, Chris," Wyatt repeated, giggling. "Bye bye."

_"Brothers have got to stick together, right?"_

And before he could lost his courage, Chris stepped into the portal and went back to the future.

**Fin.**

A/N: What did I say about happy endings? There is an epilogue; it's an exciting look at the future Chris returns to, with a little twist. It should be up soon. Please review!


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